"I hope he isn't disappointed," murmured Dick to his brother.
"Do you really believe there's a chance of finding gold in that cave?"
Nort asked in a low voice.
"I really do. Why else would those fellows want to keep us out? It can't be that it's a mere cattle-rustling game."
"No," admitted Nort, "I don't believe it's that. But—gold! Seems sort of far-fetched."
"Well, maybe I'm wrong," went on Dick. "But we'll soon find out, if those gas masks are any good."
On the way back to the circle of ranch buildings a close lookout was kept for any sign of intruders on the range of Dot and Dash. But no strangers were seen, nor did a casual survey of the various herds scattered over the plains disclose any casualties.
"I guess everything that happens takes place around Smugglers' Gulch," observed Dick.
"Seems so," admitted his brother.
No one had suffered any serious results from the gas attack. It had been discovered so quickly, and the retreat had been made so promptly, thanks to Snake's vigilance, that aside from a little irritation of their mouths and throats the attackers were not injured. The irritation soon passed away and was about gone when they neared the ranch.
"They were just teasing us that time," decided Snake. "The next time they'll shoot some real nasty gas at us."