ut a soaking for our pains."

"Never mind, Malone," returned the other, who was evidently the better
educated of the two. "As we had to make ourselves scarce in the city
this was as good a place to come to as any."

"Don't you think they'll look for us here?"

"Why should they? We were sharp enough not to leave any trail behind--at
least, I was."

"Reckon I was just as sharp, Caven."

"You had to be--otherwise you would have been nabbed." Gaff Caven
chuckled to himself. "We outwitted them nicely, I must say. We deserve
credit."

"I've spent more than half of what I got out of the deal," went on Pat
Malone, for such was the full name of one of the speakers.

"I've spent more than that. But never mind, my boy, fortune will favor
us again in the near future."

A crash of thunder drowned out the conversation following, and Joe
hurried back to where he had left Ned.

"Well, have you found out who they are?" demanded the rich youth,
impatiently.

"No, Ned, but I am sure of one thing."

"What is that?"

"They are two bad men."

"What makes you think that?"

"They said something about having to get out of the city, and one spoke
about being nabbed. Evidently they went away to avoid arrest."

At this announcement Ned Talmadge whistled softly to himself.

"Phew! What shall we do about it?" he asked, with a look of concern on
his usually passive face.

Joe shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know what to do."

"Let us listen to what they have to say. Maybe we'll strike some clew to
what they have been doing."

"Would that be fair--to play the eaves-dropper?"

"Certainly--if they are evildoers. Anybody who has done wrong ought to
be locked up for it," went on Ned boldly.

With caution the two boys made their way to the narrow window, and Ned
looked in as Joe had done. The backs of the two men were still towards
the opening, so the lads were not discovered.

"What is this new game?" they heard the man called Malone ask, after a
peal of thunder had rolled away among the mountains.

"It's the old game of a sick miner with some valuable stocks to sell,"
answered Gaff Caven.

"Have you got the stocks?"

"To be sure--one thousand shares of the Blue Bell Mine, of Montana, said
to be worth exactly fifty thousand dollars."

"Phew! You're flying high, Gaff!" laughed Pat Malone.

"And why not, so long as I sell the stocks?"

"What did they cost you?"

"Well, they didn't cost me fifty thousand dollars," a