“Forewarned is forearmed,” he said, softly. “We’ll see who’ll win out, Pud Stoneham!”
Nestor was up early the next morning. The weather had cleared and it was a beautiful day. The boys came down to breakfast with heavy eyes, for they had slept soundly. Professor Snodgrass, too, had arisen early, and was already searching for rare bugs.
“I want to get a red tree-toad,” he explained, as he strolled up at the sound of the breakfast gong, “but I am afraid they are not to be had.”
Suddenly he grabbed Ned’s arm as the boy was walking toward the automobile shed.
“One moment, I beg of you!” exclaimed the professor. “Steady now! Ah! I have the beauty. He was right on the back of your neck!” And he reached over and took from Ned’s coat a small insect.
“It’s an extremely choice specimen of a sand flea,” said the professor, proudly, popping the little animal into a glass case. “I hope I did not discommode you in removing it from you.”
“Not at all,” laughed Ned, and the others smiled at the simple earnestness of the bug collector.
“I want to have a talk with you boys after breakfast,” spoke Nestor.
His grave manner somewhat alarmed them, and they started to ask questions, but he would say nothing until after the meal. Then he told about what he had heard.
“What worries me,” said the miner, “is that I saw about the hotel a fellow that tried to follow me an’ my pardner one day, and locate the lost mine. This chap’s name is Tom Dalsett, and I saw him talking to Stoneham, the gambler, just before we came in to breakfast. Some mischief is in the wind when two such fellows whisper together.”