Some of the men could be seen busy about the camp fire, over which hung a kettle, and the boys wished they might have some of the savory soup or stew it undoubtedly contained.
However they were on an important quest, and they did not mind eating a cold meal. This they did, giving Ruddy odds and ends. Their water was getting low, but they were now within sight of Lost River and did not fear thirst.
“We can sneak out in the night and get some,” proposed Chot.
“That’s when we want to scout around—after dark,” said Rick. “I think there’s a moon to-night.”
In silence they sat on rocks, just within the mouth of the tunnel and ate their meal. They watched the miners at their supper not many hundred feet away, and it was plain that the stealers of Lost River, as they might be called, were unaware that they were being spied upon.
They laughed and joked—one even tried to sing—but the wind was blowing the wrong way and though a confused murmur came to the boys they could not distinguish what was said.
Rick had guessed right about the moon. There was one, it was at the full, and gave a glorious light from an unclouded sky. The boys stretched out to rest on their blankets before setting out on their scouting expedition. The men sat around the camp fire smoking and talking, and then one after another “turned in.” They left no one on sentinel or guard duty, the boys noticed.
“It’ll be easy,” whispered Rick as they prepared to leave the tunnel.
“What about Ruddy?” asked Chot. “Won’t he make a noise?”
“Not as much as we do. He’s a game dog and used to going quietly. I wouldn’t want to leave him behind.”