"I guess we will be able to stand 'em off," said Jim, "without calling in the police."

Then James swung himself off his horse at the foot of the long hill; Tom and Jo rather stiffly, for they were not yet used to active mountaineering after so much sea travel, while Jeems Howell stepped off his little bay pony. Now ensued a scene of much activity making camp. Each one had his work to do and it was done promptly.

Juarez and Jim looked after the horses; rubbed them down, looked carefully after any strain or sore, and it was work that they loved to do. When the horses were sufficiently rested they were watered and fed, and from their splendid condition it was evident that they were well cared for. Caliente, Jim's charger, was in extra fine shape. His coat of mottled iron-gray fairly shone under Jim's brushing. When he had time he polished his hoofs. There was a real affection between the horse and his master. On more than one occasion his strength and fleetness had saved Jim's life. No one else was equal to controlling him.

Jeems' and Tom's work was to look after the mules, take off their packs and feed and water the animals. Jeems seemed to get along with the mules all right, much better than he did with the horses. Perhaps the mules were philosophers. At least they were very wise animals, canny and self-controlled. No mule you notice will overeat even when he has a chance, but with a horse it is different.

Jo's duties were very active ones. He had to move the goods, saddles, etc., into camp, and then get the wood for the fire. By this time one of the other boys would be free to help rig up the tent and another would fetch water. It was a lively, interesting scene and the boys enjoyed it thoroughly.

Within an hour the work was all done, and the horses were grazing, with evident enjoyment of the freedom of roaming around over the wide meadow with its growth of luxuriant gra.s.s, this after the hard day's pull. The boys had built a roaring fire of logs fed by long pine cones, for the nights were cold at that alt.i.tude.

"This would make a pretty fair sort of a fort," said Juarez, "if we had to defend it."

"Not as good as the one Jim and I had when the Apaches attacked us in New Mexico, when we were separated from Tom and the Captain," remarked Jo wisely.

"That was a natural fort," put in Jim, "but as Juarez says, we could stand off a crowd here, if we had a chance to fix it up a bit."

"It's lucky that it stands clear of the mountain on this side, so that an enemy could not attack us from shelter," remarked Juarez. "It must be nearly three-quarters of a mile to the foot of the mountain on this side of the valley; perhaps further."

"This hill must be all of one hundred and fifty feet high," said Tom.

"I should like to see a crowd of Indians charge it."

"You wouldn't," put in Juarez. "They never do a trick like that, but would hang around until we were starved out."

"I tell you, lads, it won't be the Indians who will give us trouble,"

remarked Jeems Howell, "but a gang of renegade white men and half-breeds. That's the crowd that will be on our trail."

"I have a sort of feeling that there is a lion in our path," quoth James. "We will never get in the vicinity of the 'Lost Mine' without a fight. You mark my words. The sooner it comes the better."

"I guess we had better get the horses corraled, hadn't we, Skipper?"

inquired Juarez. "It's beginning to get dark."

"Right you are," agreed Jim. "They have had a two-hour graze. We will take them down to water and then bring them into camp. Jo, you stay here and guard the goods."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Jo.

It was already growing dusk when the boys started across the level meadow to get the animals. They had no difficulty in picking up the trailing lariats. Only the mules acted rather queer. Their long ears were pitched forward and they were gazing fixedly in the direction of the mountain back of the camp. Then Missouri, the leader, a big buckskin with a brown stripe down his back, suddenly put his ears back and began to squeal loud and viciously.

"What's the matter with old Missouri?" inquired Jeems anxiously. "You don't suppose that the gra.s.s has given him a pain in his tummy?"

"No," said Jim, "the old chap scents trouble of some kind."

"Maybe it's a mountain lion," suggested Tom, "that would make him act up."

"Maybe," admitted Jim.

Now they had arrived at the stream that was roaring through the meadow. It was no brook either, but a brawling stream about forty feet in width, very clear and wonderfully cold, as it came from the snow-clad summits to the northwest. There were a good many large boulders that checked its course and made a roaring music in the quiet of the valley. It was a full half mile from the hill where the camp was.

"This would be a fine stream for trout," remarked Tom. "I wish we were going to stop in this valley long enough to give us a chance for some sport, but I suppose we will get up about four o'clock in the morning and chase over the mountains all day and then make a dry camp where our animals will be stampeded by the Indians."

"You certainly are a croaker, Tommy," laughed Jim heartily, for Tom's pessimistic prophecies never failed to amuse his big brother, "but cheer up, I have about decided to stop here in the valley for a day or two and give the children a good time."

"It won't be a bad idea, Skipper," remarked Juarez, "because it will give the horses a good rest and they have had a long, hard pull of it the past ten days, and will put them in good condition for the rest of the trip; perhaps, too, we can get a deer or two around here."

"There formerly was and ought now to be deer in this valley or near it," put in Jeems. "This is just the kind of place for them to come for grazing and pasture."

"It will help fill out our larder, too," said Tom.

"You mean our stomachs," said Jeems whimsically, after his fashion.

"I would like a mess of trout," remarked Tom. "I'm tired of salt horse."

"What's the matter with Missouri?" said Jeems, "he won't drink."

"You can't make him then," said Jim. "A mule is sure stubborn."

The rest of the animals appeared willing enough, but it took quite a while, as only one could come down to the stream at a time. The banks, though not high, were cut through the turf and there was only one spot where there was a broken place and a couple of stones where the horses and mules could step down to the stream.

"I guess Jo will begin to wonder what has become of us," said Jim, as the last horse drank his fill.

When they turned the animals' heads towards the camp it had grown dark, while the great valley was filled with the loneliness and the deep shadows of the night. There was nothing to break the stillness but the tune of the tumbling stream and the monotone of the pine-clad slopes rising blackly on either side of the valley. The light of the campfire upon the hill sent up its distant glow.

CHAPTER XX

A SURPRISE

Let us now return to Jo to keep him company during the absence of his brethren and companion-in-arms. He sat down by the fire on a rock with his legs stretched out before him, for he was rather tired, and his hands clasped back of his head. All about him were the shadows of the trees, but he was perfectly at his ease, though it would have been lonesome enough if he had not known that the rest of the gang was near.

Still it would have been better if he had kept closer watch, for already the Frontier Boys had received warning that they were being trailed, and Jo should have seated himself in the door of the tent so that his back would have been protected, and he would have had the benefit of the fire just the same. He likewise naturally trusted to Jeems' shepherd dog to give him warning. The dog lay near the front of the tent with his nose over his paws and his brown eyes blinking toward the blaze.

It was his presence that saved Jo at this time, nothing else. Shep jumped to his feet with a growl that grated along his back teeth, a growl that meant business and serious business, too.

Let us see what was the cause of Shep's alarm. Just a little after the boys had left the hill to take the horses to water, the figure of a man could be seen coming stealthily out of the shadow of the pines upon the slope.

He maneuvered so that the hill was between him and Skipper Jim's party, then he stood straight up and walked stealthily and carefully, but nevertheless swiftly, towards the camp. The man had made a slight miscalculation, for he supposed that the camp was deserted and that he could take what he wanted and destroy the rest before the boys could return. A crooked smile came over his face as he made his evil plans.

He would go through the camp, take what was valuable, throw what he could not use on the campfire and as a last touch he would set fire to the tent.

Then as the tenderfeet came rushing back filled with anger and fear at the sight of the burning tent, he would easily make his escape through the darkness to the protection of the mountains, where these boys would never get him. He would have, too, his booty, which he would hide in a cave he knew of, so that he would not have to divide with his gang. It was a beautiful plan and it appealed to him in several ways.

"Those American pigs," he said, "they think through their snouts. They do not know enough to guard their camp in this country."

But as we know, there was something of a surprise in store for this enterprising gentleman. It is evident that he was not the same fellow that Juarez had detected skulking in the woods that morning, for this was a Mexican who was stalking the boys' camp. He came swiftly through the gra.s.s, with a silence born of custom. It was well for him that he did, else Jo would have been on his trail in a minute.

The Greaser, for such he deserves to be called, went cautiously up the slope of the hill, following a small depression which was a watercourse during the rainstorms. When he got within two-thirds of the top, he stopped as though he had been struck, for there was the figure of Jo seated on the rock between him and the fire. For a second his jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide. Then his cunning ferocity came to him.