So close to us was he, that even in that uncertain light we could distinguish the word, “Pelican,”stenciled upon it in big black letters.
Laying this sack upon the flat stone, John reached into the hole again, and, one after another, brought out four others. Apparently there were no more in there, for, having done this, he rose to his feet again, looked all about him once more, and then walked off a short distance up-stream. At the point where the channel overflowed he stopped again, when, to our wonderment he pulled off his coat, rolled up one sleeve, and going down upon his knees, began scratching around in the water. In a few seconds he fished out one at a time five dripping sacks, all of which he carried over and set down beside the first five.
Evidently he was working with some set purpose; though to us watchers it was all a perfectly mysterious proceeding.
A few steps from where the sacks were piled was a little ledge of rock less than a foot high, above which was a steep slope covered with loose fragments of stone. Taking up the sacks, two at a time, John carried them over to this spot, laid them all, end to end, close under the little ledge, and then, climbing up above them, he sat down, and with his big, flat feet sent the loose shale running down until the row of sacks was completely buried.
This seemed to be all he wanted, for, having examined the result of his work and satisfied himself apparently that the sacks were perfectly concealed, he turned and went straight off up the crater-wall again, pausing at the crest for a minute to inspect the country ahead of him, and then, stepping over the rim, in another moment he had vanished.
“Come on, Phil!”whispered my companion, eagerly. “Let us see which direction he takes.”
“Wait a bit,”I replied. “Give him five minutes: he might come back.”
We waited a short time, therefore, when, feeling pretty sure that John had gone for good, we scrambled to the summit of the ridge and looked out over the mesa. There we could see Long John striding away at a great pace, apparently making straight for Big Reuben’s gorge.
“Then Yetmore was right,”said Joe. “Those fellows were the ore-thieves after all. I wonder if they haven’t taken up their quarters in Big Reuben’s old cave. It would be a pretty good place for their purpose.”
“Quite likely,”I assented. “But what do you suppose, Joe, can have been Long John’s object in coming down here and moving those ore-sacks?—for, of course, they are the Pelican ore-sacks. They were well enough concealed before.”