“Get up!” the sheriff commanded Stoneham, and the gambler struggled to his feet. His air of bravado was gone and he hung his head. “I’ll take you back to town in a little while,” the officer announced.
There was a crackling in the bushes and, cautiously parting them, Nestor stepped into view.
“What’s happened?” he asked Jerry.
“It’s all right,” replied the boy. “I filed the claim, I beat Noddy, and this is the sheriff, who has arrested Mr. Stoneham.”
“Good for you!” cried the miner. “We’ve been havin’ a pretty lively time since you went away, an’ you got back just in time. So the papers are filed, eh? Well, that gives us the mine now, an’ we’re all rich!”
“I’d rather have Mr. Stoneham here than a gold mine,” remarked the sheriff.
“Is he so valuable?” asked Nestor.
“He is to me,” was the answer. “There’s a reward of five thousand dollars for his capture for counterfeitin’ money, an’ besides that he’s wanted on half a dozen charges. When I heard he was here, I jest hustled, I tell you.”
It was getting dusk now, and, after a little thought, the sheriff decided not to take his prisoner back to town that night.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll camp out here with you,” the officer said to Nestor, and the miner extended a hearty invitation. Soon supper was prepared and partaken of sitting around the camp-fire.