ute--they rode like young men; they
rode like young men not to the saddle born, and Tobe permitted himself a
chuckle: "By hooky, I've got an even chance for my little bluff!"
He shook his head reprovingly at himself for this last admission. With
every minute he looked more like Tobe Long than ever--if only there had
been any Tobe Long to look like. His mind ran upon nuggets, pockets,
placers, faults, true fissure veins, the cyanide process, concentrates,
chlorides, sulphides, assays, leases and bonds; his face took on the
strained wistfulness which marks the confirmed prospector: he _was_ Tobe
Long!
The bell rang.
CHAPTER XII
THE SIEGE OF DOUBLE MOUNTAIN
"Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes."
--_The Dictionary._
"Ho-o-e-ee! Hello-o!"
As the curtain rose to the flying echoes Long stepped to the edge of the
dump, frying-pan in hand, and sent back an answering shout in the
startled high note of a lonely man taken unawares.
"Hello-o!" He brandished his hospitable pan. Then he put it down, cupped
hands to mouth and trumpeted a hearty welcome: "Chuck! Come up! Supper's
ready!"
"Can't! See any one go by about two hours ago?"
"Hey? Louder!"
"See a man on a sorrel horse?"
"No-o! I been in the tunnel. Come up!"
"Can't. We're after an outlaw!"
"What?"
"After a murderer!"
"Wait a minute! I'll be down. Too hard to yell so far."
Mr. Long started precipitately down the zigzag; but the riders had got
all the information of interest that Mr. Long could furnish and they
were eager to be in at the death.
"Can't wait! He's inside the mountain, somewheres. Some of the boys are
waiting for him at the other end." They rode on.
Mr. Long posed for a statue of Disappointment, hung on the steep trail
rather as if he might conclude to coil himself into a ball and roll down
the hill to overtake them.
"Stop as you come back!" he bellowed. "Want to hear about it."
Did Jeff--Mr. Long--did Mr. Long now attempt to escape? Not so. Gifted
with prevision beyond most, Mr. Long's mind misgave him that these young
men would be baffled in their pleasing expectations. They would be back
before sundown, very cross; and a miner's brogan leaves a track not to
be missed.
That Mr. Long was unfeignedly fatigued from the varied efforts of the
day need not be mentioned, for that alone would not have stayed his
flight; but the nearest water, save Escondido, was thirty-five miles;
and
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