“Upon my word, Mr. Reade,” he cried, “that is strong logic!”
“I thought you would agree to it. Now those cunning rascals of counterfeiters are aware of the fact and cross the valley with impunity at any time of night.”
“But—but what of the nuggets of gold which are said to tempt the unwary into the place? If they were able to enter and close the valley, why should Mason and his gang need to manufacture counterfeit money?”
Frank snapped his fingers.
“That for the nuggets of gold!” he declared. “Ten to one they are worthless iron pyrites. But we will investigate that later. Ah! what did I tell you?”
With this excited cry Frank pointed down into the valley.
Dark forms were seen to flit into the shadows between the dancing sections of gas fire. That they were the counterfeiters bent on escape there was no doubt.
“Heavens! there they are!” gasped the captain. “What shall we do?”
“Explain the secrets of the valley to your men. Close in upon them and——”
But Frank Reade, Jr., did not finish the sentence.