"Yes, but he can't prove that you took that money."
"No, but it looks black against me."
"Maybe he won't think you guilty—if you come home with a big bag of gold."
"Maybe that's true—as Dixon would say," and Mark smiled faintly. "Mr. Powers thinks a heap of money."
"Well, so do we—or we wouldn't undergo these hardships to get it."
The boys trudged along until they reached the edge of some timber, and here came to a gurgling brook, where they stopped for a drink. They were about to go on, when Bob pointed to some prairie hens, sitting in a bit of a clearing a hundred or more yards away.
"Let us both fire," whispered Mark. "You can fire to the right and I'll fire to the left."
Bob was willing, and creeping a little closer they raised the guns.
"All ready?"
"Yes."