Having elevated his hands, the youth turned to look at his master. One glance at the countenance was sufficient. He was the individual whom Frank had seen secretly talking with Hardman on the boat that carried them from the head to the foot of Lake Lindeman, and whom both had seen on the day of their arrival in this neighborhood.
Roswell Palmer now displayed a quickness of wit that would have done credit to an older head. His revolver he had placed in a pocket on the side of him that was turned away from the man, and it will be remembered that the lad had placed it there before receiving the peremptory summons to surrender. In the hope that his captor was not aware that he carried any firearms, Roswell kept that part of his body farthest from him.
The man was standing at the side of the rock with a similar weapon in his grasp, and showed that he was elated over the clever manner in which he had gotten the best of the youth. His own weapon was not pointed at him, but held so that it could be raised and used on the instant.
"What do you mean by treating me thus when I am walking peaceably through the mountains, offering harm to no one?" asked Roswell with an injured air.
"What are you doing here anyway?" demanded the other, whose unpleasant face indicated that he did not fully grasp the situation.
"My friend and I set out to look for some men that have stolen our gold. Have you seen them?"
This sounded as if the boy had no suspicion of the fellow before him, and taking his cue therefrom, he said:
"No; I don't know anything about it. Did they jump your claim?"
"We had the gold among the rocks where we live, but when we came home to-day, we found that some persons had been there and taken it all."
Something seemed to strike the man as very amusing. He broke into laughter.