"If only we could catch sight of them," put in Sam. "They ought to be shot on sight!"
The boys looked at Jack Wumble, who had remained silent.
"Do you advise us to go back?" asked Dick hastily.
"I can't say as I do, lads," was the slow response. "Yet it might be better to do that nor to be shot down and have yer body thrown into a canyon," added Wumble, speaking in his old time vernacular. "Perhaps your father would rather have ye back."
"I don't believe it," burst out Tom. "Father never wanted cowards for sons."
Dick caught the paper, tore it down and ripped it in two, throwing it to the wind.
"I say I'm going ahead."
"So am I," came from both of his brothers. "But you need not go
Jack." went on Dick. "We don't wish you to run into danger, and—"
"Hold up, Dick, I said I would see ye through, and I will," cried the old miner. "But I want ye to realize what ye are doing, that's all. If you are shot down it will be yer own fault, so to speak."
"But we don't intend to be shot down," interrupted Tom. "We have run up against the Baxters before, so we know how to be careful."