“Yes. How’d you know?” Mr. Manley looked at them quickly.
“We met ’em on the way as we were riding in. Jim was pretty excited, and so were the others. Just what does it mean, Dad?”
“It means we’re in sort of a hole, for the time being,” Mr. Manley answered bitterly. “Oh, I can’t really blame ’em. I’d probably do the same thing myself. You see, late last night a puncher rode in and started a wild story of how people were gettin’ rich at Nugget Camp. No one believed him at first, but he pulled out a pocket full of nuggets. Then he told how some old feller—the one you found, I reckon—came across with a pan worth fifty thousand. I reckon that’s a bit exaggerated, though. So he got robbed! Boys, I don’t like the looks of things—not a little bit, I don’t!” The frown came again to his face. “Something tells me we’re in for some mighty dirty weather.”
“And then three of our men hit the trail?” Teddy asked.
“Uh-huh, three; and another just an hour ago. You missed him.”
“Four men gone!” Roy gave a long whistle. “That’s past the joking stage. And there’s plenty to be done just now, isn’t there, Dad?”
“Plenty! Well, we’ll have to get along, that’s all. You boys will have to take the range.”
“Sure, we will!” Teddy said heartily. “Feels good to get back on the job again. Now don’t worry about this, Dad. Things will shape up.”
“I reckon,” Mr. Manley agreed, and grinned. “Or you two will shape ’em up, hey?”
“Right!”