At the end of an hour the boys resumed their journey, each one loaded with a few things they wanted to save, and in two hours more they arrived within sight of Dutch Flat. Some few of the men had already given up their workings and were sitting in front of the store, smoking their pipes; but one of them speedily caught sight of the boys, and the miners broke out into a cheer. In a few seconds more they were surrounded, shaking hands with all of them, and trying in vain to answer their questions all at once.
"This is no way to do it," declared Julian. "Let us put our things in the cabin and get our breath, and I will tell you the story."
"In the first place," began Jack, as he deposited the things with which his arms were filled and came out and seated himself on the doorsteps of Mr. Banta's cabin, "let me ask a few questions. I won't delay the story five minutes. Where is the man who owns this house?"
"Mr. Banta?" said one of the miners. "He took the upper trail two or three days ago, and rode with all possible speed in the direction of Mendota. He hopes in that way to cut off those villains."
"He will do it, too, for they have no horses," said Julian.
"No horses? What did they do with them?"
"I don't know, I am sure," answered Julian, in surprise. "They were on foot when they came to rob us."
"Why, their mule came up here a few hours after they left, and made the biggest kind of a fuss, and Banta suspected something at once. He called for some men to go with him, and he went as straight as he could to your mine. You were not there, and that proved that those miners had paid you a visit."
"We are going to get our dust again!" said Julian, slapping Jack on the shoulder. "But I hope they won't hurt the robbers after they catch them."
"Well, that is rather a difficult thing to tell. A man who comes into a mining-camp and watches his chance to steal money instead of working for it, takes his life in his hand."