more powder until we're pretty certain of fetching a
scalp. That's _my_ opinion."

"No, it won't do any good to run circles," said Mr. Adams. "We can be
thinking while they're guessing. We know what we'll do better than
they know what they'll do--and they'll never, never keep possession of
that mine," and he set his jaw hard. "That is," he added, "if any of
us finds it."

The news spread that the "Adams party" had been robbed, and presently
queries came from the curious, even from the captain himself. But
people soon found that the "Adams party" weren't much of a hand to talk
at random about this or any other of their affairs, and the little
excitement soon died away. The captain said he was sorry, he'd take up
any line of inquiry that Mr. Adams would suggest, etc., etc.; and Mr.
Adams replied that there was nothing to be done, yet--they'd decided to
let the matter rest.

The long-nosed man and his two partners appeared, now and then,
swaggering with great air of being unconcerned--the long-nosed man
especially assuming to be a hail-fellow-well-met who could not possibly
be guilty of any meanness. But nevertheless, none of the three was
especially popular, except among the gamblers and drinkers.

As for Charley, he did not enjoy the rest of the voyage. He had lost
the papers, and he had failed to identify the man who had challenged
him to jump overboard, and he was simply crazy, now, to have the voyage
at an end. What he wanted, was to get ashore at San Francisco, and
race that long-nosed man for the Golden West mine. He was determined
to "make good," was Charley.

Up the beautiful coast of Mexico steamed the _California_, with a stop
at San Blas, and another at the fine port of Mazatlan, almost on the
Tropic of Cancer. The scenery was wonderful; the white surf of the
shore, and misty blue mountains rising high above the green background,
being ever in sight from the deck. The water was alive with
flying-fish, porpoises, sharks, whales, dolphins, and now and then an
immense turtle; while over the ship's foamy wake the gulls and terns
and pelicans sailed and dived.

From Mazatlan the _California_ veered westward, right on the Tropic of
Cancer, to clear (said people) the Gulf of Lower California. When she
pointed in again, in the morning, she crossed the path of the steamer
_Oregon_, southward bound out of the gold fields. The _Oregon_ was too
far to be hailed. However, no matter--for aboard the _Ca