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animal should not get away from them. Where to look for Dick, however, was a poser.

      "Well, I'll tell you one thing," Tom declared, "I'm not going on to Larkspur Creek until he is found."

      "Or until we have found out what has become of him," added Sam. "He may be dead, you know."

      "I reckon we had best go back to where he took his tumble," said Wumble. "If he escaped he'll come back thar himself, more'n likely."

      This appeared to be good advice, and an hour after the departure of Yates and the others they mounted and set off.

      Less than half a mile had been covered when, of a sudden, there came a shot, and a bullet cut through the brush beside them.

      "Hullo! this won't do!" cried the old miner. "Come out of sight, an' be putty quick about it, too!"

      They rode into a patch of wood and halted. But no more shots came, nor could they locate that which had been fired.

      "One thing is certain, at least one of yer enemies is a-watching of us," was the old miner's comment. "We'll keep behind shelter after this." And they did.

      It was hard traveling, and poor Sam was utterly worn out by the time the trail along the watercourse was again reached.

      "I've got to let up a bit," he murmured. "I can't sit up in the saddle any more!"

      "I shouldn't have pushed ye so hard," answered Wumble sympathetically. "If ye —— " he stopped short. "Who's that?"

      He dodged behind a rock, and the others did the same. Somebody was stirring below them, in the timber. All drew their pistols.

      "If it's an enemy we'll give them as good as they send," said Tom, and he meant it.

      But it was not the enemy; it was Dick, and he soon appeared and called to them. They were overjoyed, and ran out to meet him and Slim Jim, his companion. There was hearty handshaking all around. Then as they rested each told his tale. It was such a happy gathering as is not easily forgotten.

      "You couldn't have fallen in with a better man nor Slim Jim," said Jack Wumble to Dick. "He's got the warmest heart in all Colorady, he has!"

      It was decided to wait until the morrow before setting out again for Larkspur Creek. Slim Jim agreed to accompany them, for to the hunter and trapper one spot in the mountains was about as good as another.

      "An' I'll help ye keep an eye open for them Baxters," said the old hunter.

      A good night's rest did wonders for all hands, and they were stirring bright and early. Slim Jim knew every foot of the way, and he told Wumble of a short cut to the creek which was even better to travel than the short trail the old miner had selected.

      For two days the party went on, over hills and mountains and across marvelous canyons and valleys, thick with pines and firs. The boys had never seen such scenery, and for the time being their enemies were forgotten.

      Late in the afternoon of the second day they came out on the side of a low mountain which overlooked Larkspur Creek.

      "Here we are at the Larkspur at last," cried Jack Wumble.

      "And how far still to Kennedy's claim, do you think?" asked Dick eagerly.

      "Not more than two or three miles. We'll have to hunt up the landmarks," answered the old miner, but hunting landmarks had to be deferred to the next day. Then they set about it in earnest, and by noon they were on the same ground which Anderson Rover's mining partner had traveled so many years before.

      They were trying to put down the first of their stakes when a pistol shot rang out, and Dick received a slight wound in the hand. Looking up the mountain side they saw Arnold Baxter's savage face gazing down at them. Behind the father was his son Dan, and close by stood Roebuck. Evidently their enemies meant to fight for the possession of the mine to the bitter end.

      CHAPTER XXX

       THE LANDSLIDE — CONCLUSION

       Table of Contents

      "Dick, are you badly hurt?" cried Tom.

      "No — it's only a scratch. But it was a close call."

      "To cover!" came from Jack Wumble. "Quick, all of you!"

      There was no need to call out, for all realized that they were in a dangerous position. It was Arnold Baxter who fired on Dick. Now Tom fired in return, and so true was his aim that the elder Baxter was hit in the left shoulder.

      As soon as our friends were under cover they held a council of war.

      "We ought to round 'em up," muttered Jack Wumble. "Don't you think so, Jim?"

      "I am with ye on it," answered the old trapper. "We air five to three, although one o' the crowd is wounded."

      "It's not much — only a scratch," said Dick, as he showed the wound. "Yes, let us surround them if we can. Anyway, it will be better if we get on the high ground above them. It's useless to think of staking off the claim while they are in the vicinity. They'll pull up our stakes, and shoot us in the bargain."

      Their talk was interrupted by a crashing of the bushes, and looking up they saw that their enemies were beginning to roll rocks down toward them. One rock, weighing several tons, tumbled within two yards of them.

      "All right, we'll try some o' that when we're on top," said Slim Jim.

      It had threatened rain, and now the drops began to come down, at first scatteringly, and then in a steady downpour. In this rain they moved off through the brush, leading their horses and following the old hunter, who knew more of the old Indian trails than did even Jack Wumble.

      It was necessary to make a long detour, for the rocks at one point were so steep that mounting them was all out of the question. This took them an eighth of a mile to the northward of the claim.

      It was now raining so hard that the water seemed to come down in sheets, and they felt compelled to seek temporary shelter. It had also begun to lightning, and the thunder roared and rumbled among the mountains in a manner that was deafening.

      "This is about as bad as that tornado we encountered in Africa," observed Sam, as he crouched close to his brothers. "Don't you remember it and how the lightning struck that baobab tree?"

      Yes, both remembered it well. "It was awful," said Tom. "I hope the lightning doesn't come near us here."

      If anything, the rain now came down heavier than before, until Jack Wumble declared it to be the greatest downpour he had ever witnessed in that section of the country. The water leaped over the rocks in tiny waterfalls, and soon Larkspur Creek became a raging torrent. The sky was inky black, and they could not see a dozen paces in any direction.

      Suddenly a strange rumble reached their ears, a rumble that made both Wumble and Slim Jim turn pale and look at each other with faces full of fear. The rumble rose and fell, shaking the earth beneath them, and mingling with a grinding and crashing and ripping that seemed to strike each one to the very heart.

      "What is it? The end of the world?" gasped Sam.

      "A landslide," answered Wumble. "Please God, it doesn't come this way!"

      They waited, and the next half-minute seemed an eternity. The ground continued to tremble beneath them, and the rumble kept coming closer and closer. "We are doomed!" wailed Tom, but then the rumble and crashing passed them by and was slowly lost in the distance, until with one last crash it came to a sudden end.

      "It's over!" said Slim Jim. "Thank Heaven, we escaped it!"

      "You are sure it was a landslide?" asked Dick, when he felt able to speak.

      "Yes, my lad, and a putty big one, too. Somewhar along this mountain side you will find a furrow cut down to the creek, an' find thet tons an' tons o' stone and dirt have slid down fer quarter o' a mile or more. Perhaps the slide has filled up the creek entirely."

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