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ced by a peril already near at hand against which his helpless condition allowed of no defence. His lonely and monotonous life was destined to be varied that evening in an unpleasant manner. CHAPTER III. TWO GENTLEMEN OF THE ROAD. Perhaps two hours earlier two horsemen might have been seen riding slowly over a lower slope of the mountain. The horses they bestrode were of the Mexican breed, or, in common parlance, mustangs. They were themselves dressed in Mexican style, and bore a strong resemblance to bandits as we are apt to picture them. These gentlemen were Bill Mosely and Tom Hadley, hailing originally from Missouri, but not reflecting any particular credit on their native State. They were in fact adventurers, having a strong objection to honest work and a decided preference for gaining a living by unlawful means. The very horses they bestrode were stolen, having once belonged to Jake Bradley and Ben Stanton. The circumstances under which they were stolen will be remembered by readers of _The Young Explorer_. "Beastly place, this, Tom!" said Bill Mosely, with a strong expression of disgust. "I should say so," answered Hadley, who was wont by this phrase to echo the sentiments expressed by his companion and leader. "I wouldn't have come up here if it had proved safe to stay lower down," continued Bill Mosely. "That last man we relieved of his gold-dust might prove troublesome if we should fall in with him again--eh, Tom?" "I should say so," remarked Mr. Hadley in a tone of sincere conviction. "I should like to see him when he wakes up and finds his bag of dust missing," said Mosely, with a laugh. As he spoke he drew from his pocket a good-sized bag which appeared to be nearly full of dust. "There must be several hundred dollars' worth there," he said, complacently. He expected to hear Hadley answer in his usual style, but was disappointed. "When are we going to divide?" asked Hadley, with an expression of interest not unmingled with anxiety. "You'd better let me carry it, Tom; it's all the same." "I should say so. No, I would prefer to take charge of my part," said Hadley, "or at least to carry the bag part of the time." Bill Mosely frowned darkly, and he brought his hand near the pocket in which he carried his pistol. "Hadley," he said, sternly, "do you doubt my honor?" "I should say--not," answered Tom Hadley in a dissatisfied tone, bringing out the last word after a sli
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