How mistaken Jim was he found out three days later. It was toward the close of the afternoon, when he, with the three boys, was sitting near the mouth of the shaft. Professor Snodgrass, as usual, was out collecting specimens.
Up the road that led from Rockyford, the nearest town to the gold diggings, came four figures. The motor boys and Jim Nestor looked up as they saw them.
“Hello! Something’s doing,” announced Jim, with a snapping shut of his jaws. “There’s Mike Malone, one of the deputy sheriffs. Wonder what he wants?”
But the interest of them all was centred more in the three figures that followed the deputy. For they were none others than Noddy Nixon, Bill Berry and Tom Dalsett. They came on with a confident air.
“Howdy,” called Malone to the miner, as soon as he was within hailing distance.
“Howdy,” answered Jim. “What’s up?”
Then, before the deputy sheriff could answer, Noddy Nixon broke in with:
“We’ve come to take possession of our mine! You fellows have had it long enough. We’re going to clear you all out, and get the gold ourselves. I told you I’d get ahead of you, Jerry Hopkins!” and Noddy sneered at the three motor boys, while Tom Dalsett and Bill Berry grinned maliciously.