With the boys eagerly looking ahead, the auto approached nearer the throng that surrounded two men whose strange actions seemed to fascinate those in the throng. Then Jerry uttered a queer cry.
“Look!” he fairly shouted. “One of those men is Jim Nestor, who is in charge of our mine in Arizona! What can he be doing East? Fellows, there’s something queer going on here!”
[CHAPTER II]
A TOWN GONE MAD
With a screech of the brakes, the auto came to a stop not far from the throng that surrounded the two men, who were still digging away with sticks between the railroad tracks. The three lads leaped out, wormed their way through the press of persons, and, gaining a place where they could get a better view, looked on in wonder.
“It’s Jim all right,” murmured Bob.
“Then he must have left our mine to shift for itself,” said Jerry.
“Maybe it’s no good any more,” suggested Ned. “Jim Nestor wouldn’t leave that gold mine without some good reason.”
Ned had spoke louder than he intended, and at his words one of the men looked up. A smile illuminated his bronzed face, and he called out: