"Ye were pretty well tuckered out, lad, so the nap 'ill do ye a world of good. But I think we'd better be away now. Several of the boys are more'n willin' to go with us. They're certainly roused up over what ye say The Twins did last night."
Outside Dick found Dad Seddon, and three other men, all strong, powerfully built fellows. Tom had made a wise choice in asking these men to accompany him down stream. They were not given to many words, which was partly natural, and partly acquired through long years in the silent wilderness. But they were men in whose eyes lurked not the slightest semblance of fear. They were friends worth having, but enemies to be dreaded.
Dick never forgot that rapid march down to the lake. Very little was said as they strode forward, and it was still early morning when Klutana's surface at length appeared to view. The miners were astir, and the confusion and bustle of a new day had already begun. But the five men headed by Tom did not pause until they had reached a tent of moderate size, situated on somewhat higher ground. Here the various claims were all recorded, and the Recorder was eating his breakfast, which was spread out upon an overturned empty soap box. He looked up with interest as the men appeared before him at the entrance of his tent.
"Mornin', Tom," was his salutation. "Struck somethin' good, eh?"
"Should say not," and Tom spoke in a low voice. "Have ye recorded any claims this mornin', Bill?"
"Sure thing. But why do ye ask?"
"Was it The Twins?"
The Recorder's eyes opened wide in amazement, and he looked curiously at the rest of the men standing silently and grimly outside.
"Have The Twins been here this mornin'?" Tom again asked.
"Yes. They routed me up at a most unearthly hour."