With Alverado at her side Peggy hastened toward the water hole. She could hardly repress an exclamation of alarm as she gazed at the hole. Bare six inches of muddy water was on the bottom, where the day before there had been a foot or more. All about were vague blotty-looking tracks which showed plainly enough the manner in which the marauders had concealed all noise of their movements. The m.u.f.fled hoofs would naturally give forth no sound.

"So Jess was right after all," breathed Peggy softly; "but who could have done such a thing? And why?"

But the latter question had not framed itself in her mind before it was answered. Without water they would not be able to exist at Steer Wells for twenty-four hours. A retreat would be equally impracticable. It was all horribly clear. The theft of the water was the first step in a deliberate plan to drive them out. The motive, too, was plain enough in the light of the overheard conversation at the National Hotel. The men who wanted Mr. Bell's mine had waited till he had located it before striking their first blow. What would their next be? Peggy's pulses throbbed and the grove seemed to blur for an instant. But the next moment she was mistress of herself again. Clearly there was only one thing to do.

Lay the whole matter before Mr. Bell.

"Alverado," said Peggy quietly, "after breakfast I am going to the range over yonder. You must guard the camp."

"Yes, missee," replied the Mexican; "I take care of him with--with my life."'

"I am sure you will," said Peggy in her most matter-of-fact tones, "and in the mean time say nothing to anyone else about what you have found. Bring up the water for breakfast yourself and don't let Mr.

Bell come near the water hole if you can help it."

"It shall be as the senorita wishes," rejoined Alverado in low tones; but there was a ring in his voice that told Peggy that she could trust the brown-skinned "Mestizo" to the utmost.

CHAPTER XIII

DANGER THREATENS

Somewhat more than two hours later Peggy brought her aeroplane to the ground in the arroyo which had been the scene of the battle with the coyotes. The girl could not help giving an involuntary shudder as she thought of the narrow escape they had had on that occasion.

But in the light of the other and more serious menace which now hung over them like a storm cloud, the adventure with the wild beasts faded into insignificance. Human enemies, more deadly perhaps than any of the animal kingdom, threatened, and if signs counted for anything it would be no long time before they would strike.

Peggy had not been able to leave the camp without some resort to strategy. Naturally Jess had been anxious to come. But a quick flight had been imperative, and the presence of even one other person in the monoplane detracted somewhat from its speed. Then, too, Peggy had ached with her whole being to be alone--to think.

She wanted to reconstruct everything in her mind so that when she told all to Mr. Bell there would be no confusion, no hesitancy in her story.

Three sharp toots on the electric signaling horn the aeroplane carried--connected to a set of dry cells--resulted in an outpouring from the mine-hole of the three prospectors. Very business-like they looked, too, in khaki trousers, dust covered shirts and rolled up sleeves.

"Well, well! Early visitors," exclaimed Mr. Bell jocularly, and then struck by Peggy's sober expression as she stepped from the car of the aeroplane he stopped short.

"My dear child, what is it?" he demanded. "Where are the twin fairies of light that used to dance in your eyes?"

"My goodness, Mr. Bell, you ought to have been a poet like your brother," laughed Roy coming forward with Jimsy to meet his sister.

And then, like his senior, he, too, was struck by Peggy's anxious look.

"What's the trouble, sis; bad news?" he asked.

"Anything happened?" demanded Jimsy.

"Oh, no, no; set your minds at rest on that," responded Peggy.

"Everything is all right, at least--at least--"

Her voice wavered a bit and Mr. Bell gently led her to a stool in front of the rough camp they had set up in the arroyo.

"Now then, my dear," he said, "what is it?"

Peggy faced her eager listeners, and, recovering from her momentary tremor, told her story from beginning to end in a clear, convincing way.

"Do you think I did right in coming?" she concluded. Her gaze fell appealingly upon Mr. Bell. She did not wish this sinewy, wiry, self-reliant man to think that she was a victim of a school girl's hysterical fears. But the mining man's words speedily set her at ease on this point.

"Think you did right!" he echoed, while a rather serious expression came over his face; "my dear girl, if you had not come to me I should have thought you did very wrong. You have made only one mistake and that was in not telling me before this time about what you overheard at the National House. This Red Bill, as they call him, is one of the most unscrupulous ruffians that c.u.mber the face of the Nevada desert. In any other community he would have been brought up with a round turn long ago. But here," he shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose after all," he went on, "it's the old story of who'll bell the cat."

"Do you think that we are in serious danger?" inquired Jimsy. His eyes were round as saucers and his usually good natured face look troubled.

"Well, not in serious danger, my boy," rejoined Mr. Bell; "but, just between us four, mind, it behooves us to use all speed in getting the t.i.tle of this mine recorded. This Red Bill is as resourceful as a fox, and what Miss Peggy has told us shows that he is closer on our trail than I should have imagined possible. The draining of the water hole is unfortunate in two ways. If, as I now suspect, he is camped in the hills to the east of the camp, it is plain that he has secured a supply of water sufficient to last him for some time. And this cuts both ways, for his gain in that respect means our loss.

The more water he has the less we have. That much is clear."

"Clear as mud," said Jimsy ruefully; but his tone robbed the words of any humorous significance.

"You have reached a decision, Mr. Bell?" asked Roy. The boy had not spoken yet.

Mr. Bell's mouth closed in a firm line and his chin came out in what Peggy described to herself as "a fighting bulge."

"Yes," he said with characteristic vim, "I have. Steer Wells will not be safe after daylight to-day for the women of the party. Red Bill is dastard enough, through an attack on them, to try to intimidate me. We must shift to try to camp at once."

"But where?"

The question came blankly from Jimsy.

"Here. We have a moderate supply of water and there is feed of a kind. Enough at least to keep the stock alive till our work is completed. You see," he continued, turning to Peggy, "the boys and I have struck a very interesting lead. How far it goes I have no idea, but my mining experience teaches me that it is an offshoot of the mother lode. Until we have tapped that I don't want to file a claim."

Peggy nodded her head sagely.

"I see," she said, "you don't want to file your claim and then have somebody else squat down beside you and win the biggest prize of all."

"That's it exactly," said Mr. Bell, "but the question in my mind is whether I am right in exposing you, Miss Bancroft and Miss Prescott to what may be peril. And yet--"

He broke off and a troubled expression crept over his weather-beaten face.

"And yet," Peggy finished for him, "there's no way for us to go back now without abandoning the mine."

"That's it. But if you--"

"I vote to stick by the mine."

There was no hesitation in Peggy's voice now.

Mr. Bell's keen gray eyes kindled.

"You're a girl of real grit," he said, "but the others?"

"I'll answer for them. Miss Prescott need not know anything of the danger. After all, it may amount to nothing. As for Jess, she has as much, and more, nerve than I have."

"When it comes to eating ice cream," put in Jimsy irrelevantly.