"He may get off before we can reach the top of the slope," Fred suggested, hoping by this means to prevent the conversation from reverting to their long delay.
"Then so much the better, lad," Bill replied, in a tone of satisfaction. "All we want is to be rid of such trash, an' if he leaves town that's enough."
If at this moment either of the party had turned it would not have been difficult to distinguish even in the gloom the form of Cale Billings, as he followed ready to work further mischief, or escape as might be most convenient.
Unsuspicious of the nearness of their enemy, the little party continued on to the hole through which Fred had fallen, and as they clambered up the joists the leader of the rioters muttered:
"Don't think you can smoke me out so easy. I'll leave my mark on this mine before bein' run down, or know the reason why."
Neither Sam nor Fred gave so much as a passing thought to the man who was responsible for all the damage which had been done; they were so engrossed with the desire to aid Skip without being discovered by those who might call him to an account for his crime that all else seemed as trifles.
"I'll tell mother, and she will cook for us what may be needed," Fred whispered, after they were in the lower level walking rapidly toward the slope.
"That part of it don't trouble me so much as how we're to come back to the mine without bein' seen by some of the men," Sam replied, and, turning sharply Bill asked:
"What are you fellers chinnin' about?"
"There's no harm in talkin', eh?" and Sam assumed an air of impudence such as the men had never seen before.