"We don't want anybody shot!" said Dave, to his chums. He saw that the two old miners were angry enough to do almost anything.
"Let us—er—go this time and we'll never bother you again," pleaded Job Haskers. He was so scared he could scarcely speak.
"Step over here, by this rock, and keep your hands up," said Tom Dillon. "We'll talk this over a bit further."
There was no help for it, for Merwell and Haskers were now virtually prisoners. They stepped to the position mentioned, with their hands still upraised.
"Go through 'em, Abe," went on Tom Dillon. "Take their shootin' irons away from 'em."
"See here" commenced Merwell, when a stern look from the old miner stopped him. Haskers said nothing, for he was still fearful of being shot.
In a few minutes the two intruders were disarmed by Abe Blower. While this was being done Roger whispered to Dave.
"Don't you think we ought to search 'em thoroughly?" he asked. "They may have something belonging to me—some map of the lost mine, or something like that? I don't exactly remember what I had in that suit-case Merwell got from the porter on the train."
"Certainly, we'll have them well searched,"
