In due time the boys reached town and mailed their letters. There was some excitement in the village over a robbery that had occurred, and the sheriff was organizing a posse to go in search of a band of horse thieves.
“Don’t you want to go ’long?” asked the official of the boys, whom he knew from having aided them in the battle at the mine against Noddy Nixon and his friends some time before. “Come along in the choo-choo wagon. I’ll swear you in as special deputies.”
“No, thanks, just the same,” Jerry said. “We are pretty busy up at the diggings and can’t spare the time.”
“Like to have you,” went on the sheriff, genially. “You could make good time in the gasolene gig after those hoss thieves.”
But the boys declined. They had been through enough excitement in securing the gold mine to last them for a while.
“We must stop at the store and get some bacon,” said Ned. “Nestor told me as we were coming away. There’s none at the camp.”
Bidding the sheriff good-by, and waiting until he had ridden off at the head of his forces, the boys turned their auto toward the general store, located on the main street of Rockyford.
“Howdy, lads!” exclaimed the proprietor, as he came to the door to greet them. “What is it to-day, gasolene or cylinder oil?”
“Bacon,” replied Jerry.