taking the absence of max and len as a holiday, sandy locked the tunnel entrance, pulled the house-door shut (it never had a lock), and started off on a long tramp up the mountain, within an hour after his partners left the cabin. he carried his rifle, intent upon both game and glory, for apart from the desire for fresh venison in the larder, he thought it would be a fine thing to go back some day to scotland and tell how, single-handed, he had met and killed a grizzly bear on some snowy pinnacle of the wild sierra san juan.

he walked far and reached a great elevation. he looked abroad upon magnificent pictures, shot an elk and some smaller animals, and had a variety of interesting experiences, though he got no nearer a grizzly{94} than to catch sight of one on the further side of an impassable chasm. but these adventures do not come into our story, which was resumed in his surprising experiences that afternoon.

turning homeward, when warned to do so by the declining sun, he was caught in a thunder-shower, which, at the great altitude where it encountered him, meant a deluge of sleet, hail, and most uncomfortably cold rain. drenched, sore and shivering, sandy made his way as rapidly as he was able down toward the crest of the cliff under which the cabin was sheltered. in the foggy condition of the air,—to those in the valley this fog was a rain-cloud,—and in his weary and half-dazed state, he passed beyond the point where the faint trail led down the precipice; but early discovering his error, turned back, creeping slowly along the brink of the ledge in search of it.

he had scarcely begun the search, however, when he was startled by the sound of{95} human voices. the first thought was that his partners had come back. the next instant, however, he perceived that the voices were strange to him, and with cautious curiosity he crept stealthily to the bushy brink and peered over the low cliff.

he found himself squarely above the entrance to the aurora, which was hardly fifty feet beneath him. three rough men were standing on the dump in front of the tunnel, trying to open the door, but it stood firm under their pulling. they tried some keys, but none would fit the lock, and sandy grinned as he thought of something his grandfather used to say,—“lock your door that you may keep your neighbor honest.”

“let’s smash it!” exclaimed the smallest of the three, whom we know to be stevens.

at the sound of his voice sandy pricked up his ears; he was sure it must be the same man who had spent a night at their cabin a few days before, and stolen the knife. he{96} could not see their faces, however, because of his position and their slouched hats.

“no,” objected the tallest, whose voice also seemed vaguely familiar to the listener—“no, we don’t want ’em to know we’ve been here; leave no traces to set ’em a-watching. we musn’t disturb nothing, and we must get out o’ here as soon as we can, so’s not to be caught prospectin’ their trail. what we want is to surprise ’em some fine mornin’, when they aint lookin’ for no visitors, drop on ’em like a gobbler on a june-bug. i reckon there’ll be some regular squealing fun ’bout that time, eh, old pard!” and scotty banged the rheumatic back of his squint-eyed companion in a way that made bob howl, and did sandy’s heart good.

“you bet!” echoed stevens, “and wont there be a racket afterward! i aint had a real red-hot blow-out in a coon’s age—i say, pard, it’ll be at my expense, remember, all at my expense. i’ll have the money and i’ll spend it too, you’ll see!”{97}

“nae doot,” was sandy’s inward soliloquy overhead; “but i’m thinkin’ ye’re cawking the claith ere the wab be in the loom.”

“oh, dry up!” came the gambler’s rejoinder. “you’re a fool! you haven’t got inside the mine yet. now, mates, i reckon this is our best lay: to-day is wednesday. we need time to get an outfit to live on cached near here, somewheres, so that after we’ve captured the place we can hold the fort for a little while, if they should come back at us. you see we’ve got to give ’em back their grub and furniture, cause if we take that it’s stealin’, and we aint no thieves, leastwise not in this deal.”

“a liar should hae a gude memory,” thought sandy.

“and, besides, they could drop on us for that, whereas this is a free country and we’ve a perfect right to jump a man’s claim—”

“pervided we kin hold it!” old bob interrupted.

“yes, of course. well, as i was a-saying,{98} to-day’s wednesday; and i reckon saturday night’s about our figure. we’ll come up here in the evening, and then along about twelve o’clock we’ll capture this ’ere mine, and then bounce ’em right out o’ their beds and send ’em down the ca?on. next day, if they’re civil, we’ll give ’em their blankets and notice to leave. and if they aint civil—”

the villain paused and glared right and left at his companions, with a satanic grin on his face. slowly drawing from the leg of his rust-red cowhide boot a huge knife, he finished the sentence with slow and venomous emphasis,—

“we’ll give ’em this!”

after that boodthirsty remark the three conspirators rose from their seats and scrambled down the farther slope of the dump.

so cold and stiff was the young highlander with lying in wet clothes upon the rough rocks, that at first he could hardly travel; but slowly picking his way down to the cabin he made haste first to build a fire, and after giving himself a brisk rubbing, to put on dry clothing, so that no ill result ensued.

he did not enjoy that night, alone among those storm-breeding heights, nearly as much as he had expected to, yet quickly fell asleep, not to awake until rather late on the following morning.

hurrying through breakfast, he set off at once down the trail in hope of meeting max and len, for he thought it important to gain every moment between that and saturday in the effort to forestall the enemy.