At last Merwell and Haskers were within fifty feet of those around the dying campfire. They had been talking in a low voice, but now both were silent, as if this had been agreed upon. Merwell was slightly in advance and he pointed to the outfit of the Morr crowd. This lay between some rocks and covered with a rubber cloth, so that the eatables might not be spoiled by the weather. Job Haskers nodded, to show that he understood, and both of the intruders tiptoed their way towards the stores. Noiselessly they raised the rubber cover and placed it on the ground. Then both commenced to pack the stores in the cloth. It was plainly to be seen now what the rascals meant to do. They were going to make off with our friends' stores, thereby perhaps making it necessary for them to give up the hunt for the mine and go back to the nearest place where more stores could be procured. For among those barren rocks but little could be found for the mine-hunters to eat. They might get a shot at some wild beast, but that was all. "What shall we do?" whispered Phil, who was growing impatient watching proceedings. "When I give the signal, jump up and cover them with your pistols," replied Roger. "Oh, I wouldn't shoot them," urged Dave, who dreaded to think of bloodshed under any circumstances. "Well, we'll scare 'em," returned the senator's son. "We'll teach 'em that they can't come near this camp." He waited until Merwell and Haskers were on the point of lifting the rubber cloth with the stores tied within it. Then he leaped up, and Dave and Phil did the same. "Hands up, you rascals!" cried Roger. "Hands up, or we'll fire at you!" "Oh!" cried Link Merwell, in consternation, and up went his hands. "Don't shoot me! I beg of you, don't shoot!" screamed Job Haskers, and he, too, dropped his hold of the bundle and sent his hands in the air. Then, catching sight of the pistols, he dropped on his knees. "Oh, Morr, please don't shoot! Porter, I beg of you, have mercy! And you, Lawrence, please point that weapon away! It--it might go off!" "This is a fine piece of business to be engaged in," said Roger, sternly. "Trying to steal our stores." "It--is--was--er--all a mistake," whined the former teacher of Oak Hall. "You won't dare to shoot," put in Link Merwell. "You won't dare!" He tried to be brave but his voice was shaky. "What's the row here?" burst in another voice, and Abe Blower sprang up, followed by Tom Dillon. "Hello, them two skunks!" cried Tom Dillon. "What do they want?" "They wanted to make off with our stores," answered Dave, and pointed to the goods tied up in the rubber cloth. "So that's the trick, eh?" bellowed Abe Blower. "First the hosses an' now the stores!" roared Tom Dillon. "Humph! Ye deserve to be shot full o' holes!" he went on, for he had lived in the times when the stealing of a horse, or of a miner's food, was considered by everybody a capital offense.