“I think I’ll stay out a while,” went on Dave. “I’ve got nothing particular to do. Do you want to take a little walk with me?”
“I’ve promised myself to write a letter to my folks, Dave.”
“And I’m going to write a letter, too,” added Phil. “Belle complained the last time that my letter was very short. This time I’ll make it long enough, believe me!”
“I wrote two letters yesterday; so I think I’ll take a little walk,” said Dave. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
His chums retired into one of the openings of the abandoned mine, and Dave turned to walk along a trail which led through the woods. Here at one point between a number of rocks, he had located a spring of pure water and he thought to get a drink.
The moonlight filtering through the trees made many objects appear rather ghostly, but, as my old readers know, Dave was not one to scare easily, and he walked onward at a brisk pace. Of course he kept his eyes and ears wide open, for he had no desire to be surprised. He did not carry a gun, for in that vicinity there seemed to be no use for firearms.
Although he knew nothing of what had been plotted by Max Gebauer and Nat Poole, Dave, since coming to the abandoned mines, had been constantly watched by those two unworthies. Now Gebauer noted with great satisfaction that Dave was taking a walk by himself in the semi-darkness. He at once sped away to notify his crony.
“Come on, Nat! Now is our chance,” he said in a low voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Dave Porter is taking a walk by himself in the woods.”