and board in the field, with the added promise that, if they turned
out to be "no good," they would be promptly "bounced."

"If 'bounced' we are," Tom remarked dryly, "we'll have to walk
home, for our money will just barely take us to Colorado."

So here they were, having come by rail to a town some distance
west of Pueblo. From the last railway station they had been obliged
to make thirty miles or more by wagon to the mountain field camp
of the S.B. & L.

Since daybreak they had been on the way, eating breakfast and
lunch from the paper parcels that they had brought with them.

"How much farther is the camp, now that you know the way." Reade
inquired an hour after Bad Pete had vanished on horseback.

"There it is, right down there," answered the Colorado youth,
pointing with his whip as the raw-boned team hauled the wagon
to the top of a rise in the trail.

Of the trail to the left, surrounded by natural walls of rock,
was an irregularly shaped field about three or four acres in extent.
Here and there wisps of grass grew, but the ground, for the most
part, was covered by splinters of rock or of sand ground from
the same.

At the farther end of the camp stood a small wooden building,
with three tents near try. At a greater distance were several
other tents. Three wagons stood at one side of the camp, though