"Perhaps he's done his work here, and means to vamoose the ranch," Bob
suggested. "Then again," he added, as another thought raced through
his brain, "maybe he doesn't altogether like the looks of things, and
wants to get out of this rat-hole before it all goes to smash. He must
have been here a long time, and ought to know something about that
geyser, Frank."
"There, they have discovered us!" the other exclaimed, as he waved his
torch in what he meant to be a friendly way, and kept on advancing.
"Whew! I just hope he doesn't try to fire on us," muttered Bob, who
was nervously fingering his rifle, and wondering how dreadful it would
feel to be compelled, even in self-defense, to shoot at a fellow human
being.
But the old miner held up both hands. It was the Indian peace sign,
understood by every savage tribe on the face of the globe.
Quickly the two boys hurried forward, for the first symptoms of another
burst of thunder and furious wind began to make themselves felt.
This time Frank did not take off any of his outer clothing in order to
protect the torch. He had noted that the old miner had _two_ lanterns,
and he expected to borrow one, if necessary.
Of course his torch was snuffed out while the furious blast swept by.
Bob noted that each successive outbreak tried to beat the record, and
he was wondering just when the limit of endurance might be reached.
The old miner, after the roar had subsided, offered the two boys his
hand.
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