ley, a minute later, venturing on an
original observation.

"So there is; what is the name?" inquired Mosely, who was not as
far-sighted as his companion.

"The Golden Gulch Hotel," answered Hadley, shading his eyes and reading
from a distance of fifty rods the pretentious sign of the little inn.

"I suppose they'll charge a fortune for a supper," said Mosely, whose
economical spirit was troubled by the exorbitant prices then prevalent
in California, "but we must have it at any cost."

"I should say so," assented Tom Hadley, cordially.

"You always have a good appetite of your own," observed Mosely, not
without sarcasm, which, however, Tom Hadley was too obtuse to
comprehend.

"I should say so," returned Tom complacently, as if he had received a
compliment.

"No doubt you'll get your money's worth, no matter how much we pay for
supper."

Tom Hadley himself was of this opinion, and so expressed himself.

They had already caught sight of two mustangs which were browsing near
the Golden Gulch Hotel, and the sight of these useful animals excited
the envy and longing of Bill Mosely.

"Do you see them mustangs, Tom?" he inquired.

"I should say so."

"I wish we had them."

"Couldn't we take them?" suggested Hadley, his face brightening at the
thought of this easy mode of acquiring what they so much needed.

"Are you mad, Tom Hadley?" returned Bill Mosely, shrugging his
shoulders. "Are you anxious to die?"

"I should say--not."

"Then you'd better not think of carrying off them horses. Why, we'd have
the whole pack of miners after us, and we'd die in our boots before
twenty-four hours had passed."

On the whole, this prospect did not appear to be of an encouraging
character, and Tom Hadley quietly dropped the plan.

"Perhaps we can buy them," suggested Mosely by way of amendment. "I've
got tired of tramping over these hills on foot. After we've got some
supper we'll inquire who they belong to."

Up to this point neither Mosely nor his companion suspected that the
mustangs which they desired to purchase had once been in their
possession. That discovery was to come later.

Before reaching the Golden Gulch Hotel they encountered the landlord,
already introduced as Jim Brown.

Mr. Brown scanned the new-comers with an eye to business. Being
strangers, he naturally looked upon them as possible customers, and was
disposed from motives of policy to cultivate their acquaintance.

"Evenin', strangers," he r