“How many men do you think there are in this plot?”
“Fifteen or twenty, sir.”
“All armed?”
“Every mother’s son of them.”
“If I had my Thirty!” muttered Frank.
But he was not prepared with an organized force to meet the plotting ruffians, and he felt that it would require precious time in order to get together a band of fighting men.
“Whatever do you propose to do, Mr. Merriwell?” asked Colvin.
“I see it is necessary for me to lose no time in reaching the mines.”
“But you don’t go alone, I judge? You takes some good men with you?”