"That's Vasquez and Gus in the lead," announced the man who had
forsaken his life of wrong-doing. And as the other raiders rode
into sheltered grazing ground he mentioned them by name.
"There are only nineteen of them. I thought Nails said there were
twenty," exclaimed Bill.
"So there were till Lawrence joined us," rejoined his father.
"Thank goodness, my short-horn Durhams are all right. Now be
quiet. It would be too bad to spoil everything when things are
going so well for us."
Instantly the men obeyed, sitting with eyes and ears alert for any
sight or sound that should proclaim the approach of a guard.
But twilight fell and none came, as Lawrence had predicted.
Sounds of revelry, broken now and then by the lowing of the cattle,
were constant. In due time the moon rose and with its coming the
cowboys grew impatient.
The ranchmen, however, refused to move till no sound from the
raiders could be heard.
"It's midnight," announced Mr. Wilder, looking at his watch. "They
must be asleep, by this time. We'll chance it, anyhow. Careful,
every one. Come, Lawrence."
Overjoyed that the time for action had arrived, the boys followed
their guide, halting at the edge of the valley.
Ordering the others to wait, the owner of the Half-Moon and the
former raider glided noiselessly toward the mine.
All about were signs of the celebration in which the thieves had
indulged, and their loud snores told how sound asleep they were.
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