"I'd be a fool if I didn't. You pay expenses an' give me ten thousand dollars to get 'em out of the way. Isn't that it?"
"That's it, Badger," said Frank Shirley, as he mounted and rode along beside his companion.
"That ar boy down thar," said Badger, waving his hand back at the cañon, "ain't no slouch. He'll fight, he will; an' the best way with sich is to give 'em no chance."
"No chance," echoed Frank Shirley, "that's it exactly. And now that we have them parted our opportunity has come."
"Just ez if 'twas made to order," said Badger.
After the men had gone, Sam and Ike went to work again, but the former had lost the cheerfulness that distinguished him in the morning.
He could not get those two men out of his mind, not that he feared their return—indeed, he could not account to himself for the strange feeling of dread that possessed him for the next three days.
While working, on the afternoon of the fourth day since his father's departure, he noticed that the sky had become overcast and that the water in the bed of the stream was rapidly rising.
He and Ike quit work earlier than usual, and they had great difficulty in making their way to the caves through the swollen torrent.
They had hardly reached cover when a terrific storm came up and the cañon became as dark as night, while the roar of the waters and the crashing of the thunder were ceaseless and appalling.