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DAVE PORTER IN THE GOLD FIELDS

ing warm, all talking earnestly. One man had his right arm in a sling.

"I wonder who they are?" remarked Link Merwell, as he and his companion came to a halt.

"Wait, don't let them see us until you are sure they will be friendly," cautioned Job Haskers. "For all you know they may be some of those dreaded road-agents one reads about in the newspapers. We don't want to be robbed, or have our horses stolen."

"They certainly look like a hard crowd," whispered Merwell. "But I don't think you'll find road-agents here,—not enough folks to rob."

The men were talking earnestly and had not noticed the approach of the pair. As quietly as possible, Merwell and Haskers drew to one side and dismounted. Then the boy who had spent so much time on his father's ranch, motioned for the former teacher of Oak Hall to follow him.

"We'll crawl up and listen to a little of their talk," he whispered. "That will soon tell us if we can trust them. If we can't, we'll go around them—although I don't see any other trail among the rocks."

Job Haskers nodded, and slowly and cautiously the pair crawled over the rocks until they gained a position close to the three men. Then they settled back, to listen to whatever might be said.

Inside of half an hour Link Merwell and Job