"It is just as well that they took themselves off before we had a chance to tell them that their room was better than their company. I do not like the way they have been acting since they have been here."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
AN INHUMAN ACT.
"I'll bet no men ever went away from a camp before without somebody said good-bye to them," said Jake. "They don't care where we go, or what luck we have, provided we don't go near the haunted mine. If they will just stay that way until to-morrow, they can all come on at once, if they have a mind to."
Claus was the soberest man in the party. He was waiting and watching for that bluff at which their faithful steeds were to give up their lives to make it possible for their owners to get away with the amount they expected to raise at the haunted mine. There was something cold-blooded about this, and Claus could not bring himself to think of it without shivering all over.
"I don't see why you can't tie them there," Claus ventured to say; "they won't make any fuss until we are safely out of the way. It looks so inhuman, to kill them."
"Look here!" said Bob, so fiercely that Claus resolved he would not say anything more on the subject—"if you don't like the way we are managing this business, you can just go your way, and we'll go ours."
"But you can't go yet," interrupted Jake; "we are not going to have you go back to Dutch Flat and tell the men there what we are going to do. You will stay with us until we get that money."
"Of course he will," assented Bob. "When we get through with that haunted mine we'll go off into the mountains, and then you'll be at liberty to go where you please."
"Of course I shall stay with you," said Claus, not a little alarmed by the threat thus thrown out. Then he added to himself, "I reckon I played my cards just right. If I can keep them from searching me, I'll come out at the big end of the horn, no matter what happens to them."