"What did it sound like?" queried another.
"There it is!" said the miner who had at first detected it—"it sounds like a horse's hoofs on the rocks. There! Don't you hear it?"
And so it proved. The noise was heard plainly enough by this time, and in a few moments more two men came out of the willows and rode into the circle of light that was thrown out by the camp-fire. They were Banta and his partner; and one look at their faces was enough—they were fairly radiant with joy.
"Halloo! boys," cried Banta. "I declare, you act as though you had lost your best friend; and some of you have revolvers drawn on us, too!"
"Say, pard," said one of the miners, shoving his revolver back where it belonged and extending a hand to each of the newcomers, "where have you been so long? Your pack-mule has been home all the afternoon, and has kept the camp in an uproar with her constant braying. She acted as though she wanted to see your horses. Did you see the boys?"
"Yes, sir, we saw the boys," answered Banta. He did not seem in any particular hurry to relieve the suspense of his friends, which was now worked up to the highest degree, but dismounted from his horse very deliberately and proceeded to turn him loose.
"Well, why don't you go on with it?" asked another miner. "Were the boys all right?"
"The boys were all right and tight, and digging away as hard as they could."
"Did they—did they see the ghosts?"
"Of course they did; and the ghosts are now lying up there with their skins off."