“Scar-face Indian him there all right. Make himself big fellow. What you think about that?”
“It’s an outrage!” stormed Dick. “No wonder we’re having trouble. So Henderson is at the bottom of this after all.”
“If scar-face Indian here, Henderson not very far away,” speculated Toma.
“Old Scar-Face must have discovered the mine before this if it’s located in the ravine,” Sandy suddenly spoke up.
“It doesn’t matter much now where the mine is,” Dick stated despondently. “We can’t do anything anyway. Our cause is pretty nearly hopeless.”
“Uncle Walter is coming,” Sandy reminded him. “Don’t forget that.”
“Two or three weeks from now. We may all be dead before then.”
“We can defend ourselves here for a day or two,” said Sandy. “In the meantime maybe something will turn up.”
“What about food and water?”
“Dick!” exclaimed Sandy, moving over and placing one arm affectionately about his chum, “You’re not your usual self. It’s not like you to give up so easily.”