"Because I wanted to remind you to keep away from that mine up the gully," answered Banta, looking hard at Bob while he spoke. "The boys have that mine all to themselves, and we are going to stand by them."
"We have no intention of going near that haunted mine," asserted Bob, rather sullenly. "If those boys have gold, let them keep it."
"All right! Then I have nothing further to say to you."
So saying, Banta turned on his heel and walked away. There was nothing insulting in what he said, but Bob and his companions knew that he was in earnest about it. They all kept watch of him as long as he remained in sight, and then looked at each other with a broad grin on their faces.
"I guess Banta didn't make anything by trying to pump me," said Bob. "When we get a mile or two down the gully, we'll save what little provisions we want, push our horses over the bluff——"
"What do we want to do that for?" exclaimed Claus, in great amazement. "Can't we turn them loose?"
"Yes, and have them come back here and join the old bell-mare," said Jake, in disgust. "We have to be in a hurry about what we do, for we must get a long start of the men here. If our nags appeared among the other horses here, the miners would know we had been fooling them and would start for the haunted mine at once."
"Couldn't we tie them up?" asked Claus; "or, we could shoot them. That would be an easier way than pushing them over the bluff."
"But there's the report our pistols would make," replied Bob, turning fiercely upon Claus. "The easiest way is the best. Now, if we have everything we want, let us dig out from here."
The men in the camp saw them when they mounted their horses and started down the gully toward Denver, but there was not one who shouted a farewell after them. When they disappeared from view, Banta drew a long breath of relief.