"A light ahead. Must be a camp of some sort."
"Good enough! Go ahead, and we'll come over as soon as we can."
Andrew West, Mark, and Bob increased their speed, and soon came in sight of a rude shack, from the open doorway of which the light was streaming. They could see several men moving around.
"I'll wager those are the thieves!" exclaimed Bob. "Don't you see the tall hat of one of the Mexicans?"
He had scarcely spoken when a pistol shot rang out on the still air. It came from a point some distance in front of the shack. Then they saw a man run from some bushes towards the rear of the building.
"Did he shoot at us?" asked Mark.
"No, I fancy that was a signal," answered Andrew West. "They have spotted us and are going to try to get away!"
He was right, one of the Mexicans had been on guard. Now he ran back of the shack, to where several horses were tied.
"A posse is coming," he cried, to the other Mexican. "They are on both sides of the river. We must ride for it if we would get away!"
Sag Ruff and Morgan Fitzsimmons were looking over the stolen nuggets at the time—trying to decide how they might be divided. The swindler from the South understood Spanish and gave a start.