“I’ve been thinking, fellows. I guess we’ve come to where the road forks. We’re in the hole just about as bad as we can be, and I don’t believe anybody would blame us if we should turn tail and run for it. I guess that’s about what I’d have done a year ago—or maybe a week ago. But, somehow, I can’t seem to kick myself around to doing it now.”
“Run away?” Purdick broke in. “Fat chance we’ve got to run—with those fellows probably laying for us in the woods down there. I’m thinking we wouldn’t get very far. They can’t afford to let us get away alive now.”
“Hold on,” said Larry. “You’re forgetting that the flood has probably cleaned the cave out above us—washed away that fallen-roof stuff. I suppose we can go out the way we came in. And if we should start right now, we’d stand a fair chance of getting off. No doubt those fellows are confidently expecting to find our bodies in the flood wreck in the gulch when it comes light enough to see; and if they don’t find them, they’ll think we’re buried under the wash somewhere.”
“Do you want to go, Larry?” Dick asked.
“No,” came the prompt reply. “As I’ve said, a year ago, or a week ago, perhaps, I guess maybe you would have had to tie me with a rope to hold me here with things as they are now. And with a break-away perfectly easy. But it seems as if I’d got about ten years older in the last hour or so.”
“Here, too,” said Dick. “I can’t quite see myself sneaking out by the back door.”
“Just the same, it’s only right and fair to weigh all the chances,” Larry put in soberly. “Every hour we stay here means just that much less strength to make a get-away up through the cave and over the mountain to Natrolia. And if we don’t mean to make a get-away—well, in a couple of days at the longest—saying we can stand these robbers off for that long—we’ll be starving.”
“I know,” Dick admitted. “But I’m going to stay. And when I say that, I’m not thinking of the money there may be in this gold vein we’ve been digging in, and I don’t believe either of you are. It’s a bigger question than that, now, I guess.”
“You’ve got it right, Dick,” said little Purdick. “We’re not fighting for our pockets; we’re fighting to keep a bunch of thieves and murderers from taking what doesn’t belong to them. I say, No Surrender.”
“That’s the word,” Dick agreed, and as he spoke he passed the rifle and cartridge belt over to the best marksman.