"Wasn't at all," cried Si, and went off to his work with a very red face. Tillie West was the sort of a farm girl that just suited him. And she liked Si, as everybody could readily see. Four days came and went and Maybe Dixon did not come back. In the meantime there was great excitement in a neighboring camp. Si brought in the news one night. "Been some thieves over to Hogan's Flat," he declared. "They cleaned out Hogan's gold, and the gold belonging to a feller named Sanderfield, too." "Did they get much?" questioned Bob, with interest. "Dust and nuggets worth about two thousand dollars. They might have got more, only Hogan took some nuggets worth three thousand dollars to Sacramento last week." "Have they any idea who the thieves are?" "Not exactly, although they say several suspicious-looking fellows were hanging around the camp some days ago." "I hope they catch them." "So do I," came from Mark, who was sitting up on his couch. "Boys, is our gold safe?" he added, in a lower voice. "Yes," answered Bob, and glanced at the spot where the precious hoard had been buried. "We must take some to Sacramento soon and ship it to a safe place," said Si. "Where to?" "I'll ship mine home." "I haven't any home," answered Bob. "And Mark won't want to send it to his step-father." "You can send it to my father, if you want to. I know he will take good care of it," went on Si. For the time being nothing was done towards removing the gold. Si and Bob were anxious to see Mark get around once more, and soon they grew anxious to know what had become of Maybe Dixon. As two days more passed, Si determined to go up in the mountain on a hunt for Dixon. "He may have fallen over some cliff and been killed," said the former farm lad. "He said he would be back, and as he hasn't come he must be in trouble of some sort." "Well, you look out that you don't get into trouble," answered Bob. Si went out on foot, as Maybe Dixon had done, and tramped up the mountain, and along various trails for the best part of the day. Toward nightfall he met an old prospector who said he had passed Maybe Dixon two days before, bound for the gulch. "He didn't tell me out and out, but he led me to believe that he had struck a rich find," said the old prospector. "He didn't come back." "That's queer. Perhaps he went back, to make sure about the find. Men sometimes do that, you know. They can't believe the evidence of their own senses at first--if the find is a very rich one." Si did not know what to do. He camped under a tree that night and early in the morning continued his search. Then he reached a spot where somebody had eaten a meal and from the evidences strewn around knew that Maybe Dixon had been there. Footprints led along another trail from this point and he followed, up a hill and then into a patch of forest.