CHAPTER III.
THE GOLDEN BED.
The three adventurers, Duplin, Wythe, and Tyrrel, little imagined that at least one pair of keen eyes observed very closely their movements on that memorable night, as they noiselessly went about their preparations for their desertion. Jack and Paley were filled with golden visions of the enormous wealth that only awaited their coming to gather it up in handfuls, while Burr thought far more of pretty Lottie Mitchell, and how she would receive the tidings of the strange desertion, for it could be called by no other name.
"Never mind—if the deposit is as rich as Paley declares, we can finish before winter, and then—"
Wythe smiled faintly as a far-away look came into his handsome eyes. Even to himself he does not finish the thought, for, though he loved Lottie Mitchell with all his young heart, he had scarce spoken a score of times with her, during the journey.
Still watched by Nate Upshur, the three adventurers silently left the camp and set forth upon their mission, all, even the rattle-brained Jack Tyrrel, feeling serious, for, truly, it was no commonplace step they were taking, and one that might well result disastrously. Turning, they cast a last look at the silent camp of the wagon-train that had for so many days been their only home, and then, led by Duplin, they disappeared beyond the ridge, still followed by Nate Upshur, who exhibited the skill and address of a veritable savage.
After a rapid tramp of several miles, Duplin paused and said:
"Now, boys, for a little headwork. First, shall we go on at once to the pocket?"
"How far is it?"