"One thing is certain, at least one of yer enemies is a-watching of us," was the old miner's comment. "We'll keep behind shelter after this." And they did.
It was hard traveling, and poor Sam was utterly worn out by the time the trail along the watercourse was again reached.
"I've got to let up a bit," he murmured. "I can't sit up in the saddle any more!"
"I shouldn't have pushed ye so hard," answered Wumble sympathetically. "If ye—" he stopped short. "Who's that?"
He dodged behind a rock, and the others did the same. Somebody was stirring below them, in the timber. All drew their pistols.
"If it's an enemy we'll give them as good as they send," said Tom, and he meant it.
But it was not the enemy; it was Dick, and he soon appeared and called to them. They were overjoyed, and ran out to meet him and Slim Jim, his companion. There was hearty handshaking all around. Then as they rested each told his tale. It was such a happy gathering as is not easily forgotten.
"You couldn't have fallen in with a better man nor Slim Jim," said Jack Wumble to Dick. "He's got the warmest heart in all Colorady, he has!"
It was decided to wait until the morrow before setting out again for Larkspur Creek. Slim Jim agreed to accompany them, for to the hunter and trapper one spot in the mountains was about as good as another.
"An' I'll help ye keep an eye open for them Baxters," said the old hunter.