The gathering clouds became blacker and a strong wind sprang up. There was every prospect of a severe storm, and Ned sent the machine ahead still faster. As it came to the top of a little hill, Nestor exclaimed:
“There’s Dead Man’s Gulch!”
Looking down into the valley, the boys saw a small settlement.
“Hold the machine back,” cautioned the miner. “It may get away from you on the grade.”
Ned shut off the power and coasted down. In half an hour they reached the level and started up the road, which led into the main street, and, in fact, the only thoroughfare in the town. Just as they reached the solitary hotel in the settlement the rain came down in torrents.
The auto was run under a shed and the occupants entered the hostelry, to the no small surprise of the inmates of the place, who had not heard the car come up.
“Howdy, strangers?” called the clerk, a big man, with an immense black moustache.
“Howdy?” responded Nestor, who seemed much at his ease, though the boys were rather startled to find themselves in what was evidently rough company.
“Where ye from?” asked the clerk.