CHAPTER XVIII
AN AMENDED REPORT
It was almost dark when Connie Morgan swung his outfit in toward the little cabin on Coal Creek. As the dogs stopped at the sharp word of command the door flew open and a man appeared on the threshold. The man was Brek Wiley and Connie knew that his keen eyes had taken in at a glance every detail of the outfit.
"Onharness an' come in," he invited surlily, "grub'll be ready when my pardner gits back."
As Connie entered the room the man slipped a pan of baking-powder bread into the oven.
Prospecting?" asked the boy as he seated himself on a case of canned goods, behind which he saw the butt of a service revolver protruding from its holster.
"Uh-huh, that is, we was. We're a-waitin* fer water now to clean up the dump with."
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