Fred was opposed to leaving Blacktown without seeing Sam; but Bill, smarting under the sense of having brought about his own defeat, insisted upon an immediate departure.

"It ain't likely we could get into the jail now the day is so far spent, an' if we did, what would be the use? There's nothing that could be said to cheer the boy."

"I promised."

"You can keep it the next time we come," and Bill put an end to the discussion by starting toward the mountain.

Fred followed with a heavy heart, and the two trudged on in silence until they were within a short distance of the newly-discovered coal vein, when Bill exclaimed in surprise:

"I'm blest if there isn't Joe! What's up now, I wonder?"

This question was soon answered. The approaching miner cried while yet some distance away:

"What are you comin' back so soon for?"

"There was no reason why we should stay longer," and without sparing himself in the slightest, Bill explained what a blunder had been committed.

"Well, you'd better go to Blacktown agin, or else take the train for New York."

"Why?"

"The cashier has been swearin' out a warrant for Fred's arrest, an' it'll be served the minute he gets back."

"A warrant for me?" Fred cried in alarm. "What have I done?"

"The fool thinks you know where the money is, an' that you made the arrangements with Sam, before he left, to get away with it."

"Mr. Wright won't allow such a thing."

"The letter he wrote seems to have made the cashier's neck stiffer than it was yesterday, an' I don't reckon it would do much good to depend on any officer of the company."

"I'll give that feller a piece of my mind," Bill cried angrily, and Joe replied:

"Don't do it yet a while. He told Donovan this noon that you'd gone with Fred to put the cash in a safe place, so it may be that the constable would like to see you by this time."

"Why, where does he think it was?"

"Buried on the mountain somewhere, an' if he sends men out to see if any diggin' has been done lately, the vein will surely be found."

"I'll go back any way!" Bill cried after a short pause. "Such as him shan't call me a thief."

"Now, look here, matey, what will be the good of gettin' yourself in jail? I've told Fred's mother jest how the matter stands, an' she believes as I do, that it'll be better to hang off a while in the hope something will turn up."

"An' have the constables chasin' us all over the country."

"It ain't certain they'll do that."

"But it may never be known positively who took the money," Fred added.

"If you're both so anxious to go to jail, wait till it is proved Sam is a thief, an' then show up to the constable. Things can't be worse for holdin' on a few days."

"'Cordin' to your own figgerin' there's a chance the coal will be found."

"I'll take care of that business while you an' Fred keep out of sight. With what I had, an' what could be borrowed, I've got two hundred an' twenty dollars. You shall take the odd money, an' the balance I'll plank down as a first payment on the land."

"Do you know who owns it?"

"A farmer who lived five or six miles the other side of Blacktown."

"That's correct, an' the sooner you see him the better."

"Will you agree to keep away from Farley's?"

"Yes," Bill said slowly, as if angry with himself for making the promise. "Fred an' me'll sneak 'round 'till the trade's made for this side the mountain, an' then figger up what it's best to do."

"Where can I see you to-morrow?"

"Right here. We'll stay in the woods a night or two."

"Have you got anything to eat?"

"No; but it's an easy matter to buy all we want."

"Take this money in case it is necessary to leave on the jump, an' I'll go on."

Handing his mate the twenty dollars, Joe went at a sharp gait toward Blacktown, and Bill said, with a shrug of the shoulders:

"So we're both thieves 'cordin' to the cashier's ideas; but wait 'till we get the land secured, an' I'll give that young man a lesson such as won't be very pleasant."

"Do you really mean to sleep in the woods?"

"Why not? It's warm weather, an' we'll be pretty nigh as well off there as at home."

"Then we'd better be looking for a good place. If mother hadn't sent word that I was to stay away, I'd go to Farley's this minute an' let them arrest me, for it seems as if we act guilty by running off."

"That's jest my idee, lad; but we'll obey orders a day or two."

A short distance to the right was a thickly-wooded grove, and here the two soon found what would serve very well as a camp.

A small cleared space, almost entirely screened from view by bushes, afforded all the protection which might be needed, and Bill threw himself on the ground.

"I reckon we can go without supper," he said, with forced cheerfulness, "an' there'll be no bother about lockin' the doors."

"It won't be long before I'm asleep. Walking around so much has tired me more than a full day's work in the breaker."

"Don't keep awake on my account. The sooner your eyes are closed the sooner you'll forget that there's a chance of bein' sent to jail."

With his head pillowed on some dry leaves Fred had no difficulty in summoning slumber; but Bill tossed to and fro on the hard bed without the slightest desire for sleep.

The boy was dreaming of the frightful hours spent in the short slope after the explosion, when he was awakened by the pressure of a hand on his mouth.

It was dark, save for the twinkling stars, and silent, except when the leaves were swayed by the gentle wind.

"Don't speak," Bill whispered as he removed his hand. "I can see the light of a fire over there to the right, an' it's well for us to know who are campin' so near."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Follow me. We'll creep up far enough to see what's goin' on, an' then come back, unless there's reason for changin' our lodgings."

"I'll keep close behind you," and Fred rose to his feet, Bill parting the bushes with both hands to avoid the slightest noise.

The glow of flames could be seen a long distance away, evidently on the opposite edge of the grove, and the two approached it as rapidly as was consistent with silence.

Soon the hum of voices was heard, and after a short time Bill stopped suddenly, gripped Fred by the hand, and pointed ahead.

Around a camp-fire, over which pieces of meat were being cooked, sat Gus Dobson and the friend who had caused him to distrust Fred and Skip.

"There may be a chance for us to find out a good deal of what we want to know," Bill whispered, and once more he advanced, moving with the utmost caution.

It was possible for the spies to creep within five yards of the encampment, thanks to the bushes, and when this had been accomplished the boys were eating supper.

"I don't believe in stayin' here too long," Gus was saying when Fred and Bill were near enough to distinguish the conversation.

"Nobody 'd think of huntin' for us in this place," his companion replied, "an' it ain't safe to take the cars yet a while, for them boys from Farley's have got men to back 'em."

"S'pposen they have? How can anybody find us if we walk up the track to the next station?"

"It's easy enough to send word all around, an' then we'd be nabbed the minute we showed our noses in a town."

"It will be jest as bad if they come here huntin' for us."

"You're a reg'lar fool, Gus Dobson. So long as we can keep the stuff where it is, what'll be gained by arrestin' us? We've got to take it with us when we leave, an' then whoever catches us will have the thing down fine."

"But we can't stay here forever."

"A couple of weeks won't hurt us, an' by that time folks will give up lookin' so sharp. They'll think we got away."

"We're too near Farley's."

"Then make a move. We can keep on a dozen miles or so through the woods, an' bury the stuff agin."

"I wanter get to New York."

"There's plenty of time for that, an' it'll be nothing more'n fun to camp out two or three weeks."

Gus made no reply, and after supper had been eaten his companion lay down beside the fire, saying as he did so:

"I'm goin' to sleep; you can figger the thing out between now and mornin', and say what you're willin' to do."

"It'll have to be as you say, I s'pose," Gus replied, sulkily; "but we must leave here."

"All right, we'll start to-morrow, an' when a good place is found, put up a reg'lar camp."

As he said this the boy rolled over as if to end the conversation, and Gus laid down beside him.

Bill waited until the heavy breathing of both told that they were asleep, and then, with a motion to Fred, he began to retreat.

Not until he was an hundred yards from the camp-fire did the miner halt, and said in a low whisper:

"It was a mighty good thing for us that warrant had been sworn out for you. If the cashier had waited a day or so we'd gone home without an idee of where them young scoundrels were."

"It seems certain they've got the money."

"Not a doubt of it."

"Why don't we jump right in on them? Perhaps they'd tell where it was buried."

"If they didn't we'd be worse off than before, for either one is smart enough to know nothin' can be done to 'em while the cash is hid. The only way for us is to keep an eye on the little villains, 'till they get ready for a move. Then we'll do our work."

"It'll be pretty hard to watch in the daytime without being seen ourselves."

"We must manage to do it somehow, for this is, perhaps, our last chance to help Sam."