Ben's Nugget; Or, A Boy's Search For Fortune. Alger Horatio Jr.

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      "How do you know it's your mustang?" asked Ben.

      "There's a white spot on the left flank. The other one's yours: I know it by his make, though I can't lay hold of any sign. Even if I didn't know him, his bein' in company with mine makes it stand to reason that it belongs to you."

      "I shall be glad to have it again," said Ben, "but we may have a tussle for them."

      "I'm ready," said Jake Bradley, grimly.

      By this time they had come to a halt to consider the situation.

      "I don't hear anything," said Bradley, listening intently. "I expect the skunks must be inside. Pray Heaven they haven't harmed poor Dewey!"

      Just then Dewey's voice was heard, and they were so near that they could distinguish his words.

      "Well, gentlemen," he said, "how are you getting on? Have you found anything yet?"

      "No, curse it!" responded Mosely. "Suppose you give us a hint."

      "Thank you, but I don't see how that's going to benefit me. If you find the money you mean to take it, don't you?"

      "I should say so," answered Tom Hadley, frankly.

      Richard Dewey smiled. "I commend your frankness," he said. "Well, you can't expect a man to assist in robbing himself, can you?"

      "You're mighty cool," growled Bill Mosely.

      "On the contrary, my indignation is very warm, I assure you."

      "Look here, Dewey," said Mosely, pausing: "I'm goin' to make you a proposition."

      "Go on."

      "Of course we shall find this gold-dust of yours, but it's rather hard and troublesome work; so I'll tell you what we'll do. If you'll tell us where to find it, we'll leave a third of it for you. That'll be square, won't it? One part for me, one for my pard, and one for you? What do you say?"

      "That you are very kind to allow me a third of what belongs wholly to me. But even if I should think this a profitable arrangement to enter into, how am I to feel secure against your carrying off all of the treasure?"

      "You can trust to the honor of a gentleman," laid Mr. William Mosely, pompously.

      "Meaning you?" asked Dewey, with a laugh.

      "Meaning me, of course, and when perhaps for myself, perhaps for my pard also—eh, Tom?"

      "I should say so, Bill."

      "I've heard there's honor among thieves," said Dewey, smiling, "and this appears to be an illustration of it. Well, gentlemen, I'm sorry to say I don't feel that confidence in your honor or your word which would justify me in accepting your kind proposal."

      "Do you doubt my word?" blustered Mosely.

      "I feel no doubt on the subject," answered Dewey.

      "I accept your apology," said Mosely; "it's lucky you made it. Me and my friend don't stand no insults. We don't take no back talk. We're bad men when we get into a scrimmage—eh, Tom?"

      "I don't doubt your word in the least," said Dewey. "It gives me pleasure to assent cordially to the description you give of yourselves."

      Tom Hadley, who was rather obtuse, took this as a compliment, but Mosely was not altogether clear whether Dewey was not chaffing them. "That sounds all right," said he, suspiciously, "if you mean it."

      "Oh, set your mind quite at rest on that subject, Bill, if that is your name. You may be sure that I mean everything I say."

      "Then you won't give us a hint where to dig?"

      "I am sorry to disoblige you, but I really couldn't."

      "Do you hear that, Ben?" said Jake Bradley, his mouth distended with a grin. "Dick's chaffin' them scoundrels, and they can't see it. It looks as if they was huntin' for the gold-dust. They haven't found anything yet, and they haven't hurt Dick, or he wouldn't talk as cool as he does."

      There was a brief conference, and then the first movement was made by the besieging-party.