Harry looked a long time at the party of five coming up behind them at a trot, but could not make them out.
"They look like strangers to me," he said, uneasily.
"What shall we do?" asked Bill, quite as uneasy as Harry.
"We might put spurs to the horses, but that would only carry us further away from Buttercup. Don't act as if you were afraid of anything, Bill. If they are after me, they can catch me; but it isn't likely they will want you, so, if it comes to that, you make a bolt and never mind me."
"Well, I guess!" answered Bill, indignantly.
"Don't you see you can hurry back to Buttercup and call on the miners. They will be after me like bloodhounds."
"Hands up there!" came a sudden command from the rear.
"Turn your horse's head the other way, Bill," whispered Harry, "and throw up your hands. It'll only be an excuse to shoot, if you don't."
They both faced suddenly about and threw up their hands. It was well, apparently, that they did, for the whole party behind them had their revolvers leveled.
"That is the one on the gray horse," said a voice, unpleasantly familiar to Harry.