n
they went once more, dragging Tom and their few traps and stores behind
them.

Thus another hour passed. By this time they were so exhausted they
could scarcely stand. They staggered onward until Sam fell. He was so
weak the others had to assist him to arise.

"I'm all in!" gasped the youngest Rover. "You go on and save
yourselves."

"And leave you?" cried Dick. "Never! Sam, you know me better than
that," he added, reproachfully.

"But, Dick, I--I can't walk another step!"

"Then sit on the drag with Tom."

"But you and Wumble----"

"We'll pull ye somehow," said the old miner, grimly. "We ought to be
gittin' somewhar soon."

It was now dark once more and snowing again. The wind had gone down a
trifle, but it still carried them forward, first in one direction and
then another.

Presently the drag hit a series of rocks, covered with ice and snow.
Over it went, sending Tom and Sam sprawling. Dick and Wumble also
fell, for the way had suddenly grown uneven.

"I think we are near the shore now," said Wumble. "Them rocks wouldn't
be likely to be out in the middle o' the lake."

"I think I see something!" cried Dick. "Over yonder."

With caution they advanced, and at last made out a small building,
located between a number of large rocks. All around the building was
snow and ice.

"A light!" cried Jack Wumble. "Somebody is thar! This is the best
news yet."

He stumbled through the snow and over the ice and rocks until he
reached the door of the cabin. He pounded loudly on the portal.

"Who is there?" demanded a rough voice from within.

"Friends," answered the old miner. "Let us in--we are 'most frozen to
death."

"Who are you?" went on the voice from inside the cabin. "Be careful
now, I am armed."

Cautiously the door to the cabin was opened and a very old man
appeared. He was armed with a shotgun, which he pointed at those
outside.

"I can't see ye," he said, slowly. "Come a bit closer, but not too
clost, until I make sure who ye are."

"Why, it's Tony Bings!" fairly shouted Jack Wumble. "How are ye, Tony?
Don't ye know me?"

"Jack Wumble!" cried the old man. "How in the name o' fate did you git
here?" And he lowered his gun and opened wide the door of the cabin
for the old miner to enter.

CHAPTER XXVIII

AT TONY BINGS'S CABIN

Tony Bings was an old miner who had spent several years in Colorado,
working close to Jack Wumble. The two knew each other well, and