"You—you don't suppose it was one of them who threw the stone at me, do you?" asked Tad reflectively.
"I hadn't thought of that. It may be—it may be. H-m-m-m. That's an idea."
"But why should they wish to harm me? I don't understand it at all."
"No more do I, unless they found you snooping about, or thought our party might be on the same lay they are. You know, fellows of that kind will stop at nothing. More than one man has been killed on nothing more than an idle suspicion, in these mountains. A lot more will follow in the same way. But we've been warned, and it will be well to keep a sharp lookout."
"If they hadn't thought we were near the Lost Claim, I don't see why they should have had any suspicions," decided Tad.
"On general principles—that's all."
"Did you ever try to find the Lost Claim?"
"I? Never. What would I do with it, if I had it? I'm like Ben Tackers—don't need any more money than I've got. More would be too much."
Yet Tad Butler was unable to rid his mind of the idea that somehow he had stumbled close upon the dead miner's secret. He determined to turn prospector at the very first opportunity.
"Is this more fools' gold?" he asked, pointing to a thin, yellow streak that sparkled in the rock at their right.