"Our only chance, boys!" jerked out Frank. "Go to it then, fellows!" said Lanky, acting as if he meant to make a mad dive for the stairs, and go up helter-skelter. But Frank caught him by the arm. "Slow and sure, Lanky!" came the warning. "Take things easy! Plenty of time to get there! If we all went in a mob those ricketty stairs would probably come down with a smash and dump us in a heap. You go first, Lanky, then Paul, and I'll bring up the rear." "I'm game for anything, even a fight!" retorted the tall boy, as he put his foot on the first step and started upward. Paul was listening. The hoofbeats sounded much closer than before, as if Zeke continued to make good progress toward the old tavern. How those stairs did wobble and creak and groan, even though Lanky was trying to climb as softly as possible. Now he was at the top, and, beckoning for Paul to take his turn, Frank stood waiting until he saw that the time had come for him to follow. It was a queer feeling that gripped him as he felt the swaying movement under his feet, such as one might expect to encounter on a crude swinging grapevine bridge stretched across some torrent. He felt considerable satisfaction when he gained the landing above without any accident spoiling the hastily conceived program. "Now let's get in the room over that big one below stairs," he suggested, on the spur of the moment. "Good scheme, Frank!" whispered Lanky. "It's got open seams in the floor, and we ought to be able to spy on Zeke. I'm curious to know what did bring him back, after laying that lid of his on the table and not seeming to notice he'd left it behind till the crowd had got some way off. Here he comes!" A sharp hiss from Frank cut the garrulous one off. After that the three boys lay there on the floor, hardly daring to stir, since the slightest movement on any one's part caused the rotten boards to creak and give ominously. They heard the pony come close to the door of the tavern, and then caught the heavy thud of heels as the rider jumped off. It was Zeke, just as they had expected. He came hurrying through the open door, going directly to the three-legged table, to pick up his hat and slap it on his bald head. At the same time the boys saw him half double-up, bring a hand down with a slap on his knee, and laugh hoarsely. Evidently Zeke was pleased with the success of this expedient that permitted him to gallop back to the mining camp without arousing suspicion on the part of his mates. Eagerly the unseen watchers in the loft above kept their eyes glued upon his every movement. Lanky, in particular, was filled with curiosity to learn the reason for such queer actions on the part of the gruff and tough-looking puncher. He moved about as though accomplishing something that had been on his mind. Once Frank even saw him bend down and lift what seemed to be a trapdoor in the rotten floor below. Zeke stared down into the cellar there, and gave evidences of being considerably worked up.