As a matter of fact he was now on the trail leading over into the Black Hills, and not far from the spot where the attack had been made on Clara, and, if he had but known it, he was also at no great distance from the hut at the head of Izard Lake. There was a path known to Mudd and his friends leading down from the hut to the trail of which Dick had no knowledge at all.

Both men had sobered up a bit now, and were fully able to take care of themselves and of Dick, too, as they soon demonstrated, for they pounced upon the boy, and, each catching him by an arm, hurried him along the trail.

“Well met, my noble young scientist!” said Mudd, sneeringly. “We had given up all hope of finding you. Where are your friends, Master Charles Nicholson and Miss Clara Eglinton, just at the present time?”

“Find out,” retorted Dick. “I shall tell you nothing, Mr. Mudd; so you may as well hold your tongue.”

“Civil, upon my word,” sneered Mudd. “Did you ever hear such gentlemanly language, Tony? Ha! Ha! It takes these young Washington sprigs to come out here in the wild and woolly West and show us how to do it. I take it from the way you put it that they did not make a meal for that long-necked what-you-may-call-him, as I at first supposed.”

“Mr. Mudd,” said Dick, with all the calmness he could assume, “I want nothing to do with you. You have captured me again, and I can’t help it, but if you expect to make anything out of me, let me tell you right now, you are going to get left.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Mudd. “My lord puts it plain. But then, you see, my lord does not understand the situation. Now, then, here we are. Tony, you go ahead and see if the boss is coming. Blow the whistle as soon as you catch sight of him to give me warning. I want to have my trump card all ready to play, and that same trump card is this boy.”

“Don’t forget to play a trump card for me, boss,” growled Tony. “I don’t want to kick none, and I hain’t a-kicking, but it does seem to me of late that in all this business you are only figuring on lining your own pockets and leaving me out in the cold.”

“Rats! Rubbish! Get along with you!” roared Mudd, with a fierce display of drunken anger.

Tony hurried on up the trail and never said a word, while Mudd motioned Dick into a small cave which opened in under the cliff.