THE TALKING LEAVES.[2]
An Indian Story.
BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.
Chapter XXV.
mong the number of persons who had wondered "what had become of those miners," no one had so much as guessed at the exact truth, although Murray had come nearer to it than anybody else.
That sunrise found them, as they thought, once for all, safe within the boundary of the "foreign country," where no one would ask them any ugly questions about the stolen gold they had brought there. In fact, the first thing they did after finishing their hearty breakfast of fresh beef was to "unpack themselves." Every man was anxious to know if he had lost anything on the way. It seemed as if they all spoke together when they tried to express their regret at having been compelled to leave any of their treasure behind.
"No use to think of going back for it now, boys. Some day we'll take another look at that mine, but there won't be a thing worth going for in that wagon."