The man addressed as Eb had taken the other fellow aside, and
they were now lifting the assay furnace in order to decide how
heavy it was.
"It doesn't weigh much over a hundred and fifty pounds," called
out Dolph Gage. "Two men like you can get it over to camp. And
bring over our guns, too. It was a mistake to leave 'em over
in camp."
Gage watched until the pair were out of sight among the trees.
"Hurry, you men!" Gage roared after them.
Then he started in to nose around the camp.
As he passed a clump of bushes there was a slight stir among them.
Then Tom Reade leaped forth.
In a twinkling Dolph Gage had been caught up. He was in the grip
of a strong, trained football player.
"Drop me!" ordered Gage, with a slight quiver in his voice.
"I'm going to," agreed Tom, hurling the fellow fully a dozen feet.
With an oath Gage leaped to his feet. Before he was fairly Tom
Reade's fist caught him in the left eye, sending him to earth
once more.
"Is that the way you fight, you young cub?" roared Gage hoarsely.
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