As the boys had been chiefly instrumental in getting hold of this second chart, buried in such a peculiar fashion by the old pioneer, just as had been the case with the other, he asked Frank to keep it safely.
"We'll have plenty of time to pore over them both between now and our start, as well as while on the trails," he told them, before going back to his sleeping room.
"How soon can we get a move on, Dad?" asked Lanky eagerly. "Gee whiz! I'm all cluttered up with thinking about that trip and what strange things we'll be apt to see in the mountain regions."
"Not many days more, son," was all the reply his father gave, and with this Lanky had to rest content; though as time passed he would likely grumble more or less and show signs of ever growing restlessness.
There was no further alarm that night, nor on the succeeding nights. It seemed as though the activity of the Rockspur crowd had entirely broken up any plans the conspirators may have formed, and a change of base became necessary on their part.
"Huh! bet you a cookey they've set out for Gold Fork ahead of us, and we'll find the whole shooting-match camped on the ground when we get there," Lanky said to Frank on the third day after the night disturbance.
"What's the odds if they are?" his chum demanded, unmoved by all this display of feverish anxiety on Lanky's part. "They are no more apt to find the location of Kinney's claim than those hundreds of miners were in the old days, when Gold Fork was a bustling camp and men digging like wild-fire in the hope of striking a bonanza deposit of nuggets."
"Reckon that's so, Frank," Lanky acknowledged, won over by the coolness and good judgment of his chum. "If we're going to have trouble getting our paws on that cache of nuggets with both maps to set us on the right track, why, those four-flushers haven't even a look-in."
"Well, I've got a little news for you, Lanky, that ought to fetch a grin to your face. Your father told me not ten minutes ago that it's all settled."