ing."

"Thank you."

"Looking for a friend?"

"No," said Joe, and moved on.

Without delay our hero ran to the front end of the newly-arrived train
and got aboard. As he walked through he gave every grown passenger a
close look.

At the end of the third car he came upon two suspicious-looking
individuals, who were gazing at a bit of paper in the hands of one. Joe
came closer and saw that the paper was a mining share.

"Caven and Malone, as sure as fate!" he murmured to himself. "What had I
best do next?"

While Joe was trying to make up his mind, Caven chanced to glance up
and his eyes fell upon our hero. He gave a cry of dismay and thrust the
mining share out of sight.

"What's the matter?" asked Malone in a low tone.

"Look there, Pat! That boy!"

"No!"

"But it is!"

"How did he get on this train?"

"I don't know. But it's unpleasant enough for us."

"Do you suppose Vane is around?" asked Malone, nervously.

"He may be."

The two men stared around the car. Only some women and children were
present, the men having gone out to learn the cause of the delay.

"Perhaps we had better get out," went on Malone.

"All right."

They arose, and, satchel in hand, started to leave the train.

"Stop!" cried Joe, and caught Caven by the arm.

"Let go of me, boy!" ejaculated the rascal, and tried to pull himself
loose.

"I won't let go, Gaff Caven."

"If you don't, it will be the worse for you! I am not to be trifled
with!"

"You must give up that satchel."

"Bah!"

"If you don't, I'm going to have you arrested."

"Who is going to arrest me here?" sneered the man who had robbed Maurice
Vane. "Don't you know we are miles away from any town?"

"I don't care. Give up the satchel, or I'll call the train hands."

"I'll give up nothing, boy! Stand out of my way!"

Gaff Caven gave Joe a violent shove which sent our hero up against a
seat. Then he turned and ran from the car, with Pat Malone ahead of him.

"Stop them!" cried Joe, as soon as he could recover. "Stop the thieves!"

Others took up the cry, but before anything could be done Caven and
Malone were out of the car and on to the tracks. Both stared around in
perplexity for a second.

"Come on, we can't afford to waste time here!" cried Caven, and ran for
the bank of the cut, up which he scrambled hastily, with his confederate
at his side.

Joe saw them make the move and was not slow to follow. Near at hand was
a tall, western young man,