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Suddenly a strange rumble reached their ears, a rumble that made both Wumble and Slim Jim turn pale and look at each other with faces full of fear. The rumble rose and fell, shaking the earth beneath them, and mingling with a grinding and crashing and ripping that seemed to strike each one to the very heart. "What is it? The end of the world?" gasped Sam. "A landslide," answered Wumble.
It was well along in the afternoon when they started, Dick riding behind the old hunter. He felt that he could tell Slim Jim about their mission, and he mentioned how the Baxters were watching them and trying to outwit them. "I remember thet Baxter, too," said the old hunter. "Wumble kin tell ye how we come nigh to makin' him do a dance on nuthin' onct.
"Why, yes, I met Wumble once or twice, but never had any business with him. Are you going to buy a mine from him?" "No, I am going to try to get him to help locate one that is missing," answered Tom, before he had thought twice. "Indeed! Well, I've heard Jack is a good man at locating paying claims. Do you know him personally?" "I do not."
He is a crack shot, and besides he knows Larkspur Creek from end to end, and it will save you a lot of hunting around to have him by to give information." "And where can we find Jack Wumble? "The last I heard of him he was in Chicago. He is rather a reckless man, and when he has money is apt to spend it in gambling. But his heart is true blue and honest to the core."
The meeting made his heart ten times lighter than it had been. "Where is Dick?" "Thet's the wust on it," answered Wumble. "Dick had a dirty tumble, and we can't find him nowhar." Of course the stories on both sides had to be told. Jack Wumble could not keep from laughing when told that Tom had been mistaken for a horse thief.
It may be as well to add here that, later on, Noxton, alias Slinky Bill, was tried in court and given a sentence of five years for his misdeeds. Jack Wumble and Sam had brought along Dick's horse, and they now took good care that the animal should not get away from them. Where to look for Dick, however, was a poser.
Do you reckon as how he is over to that other hotel now?" "More than likely." "Unless he shadowed us to here," burst out Tom. "If he did that he must know his game is up, and you can be sure he will keep out of sight." The matter was talked over, and it was decided that Jack Wumble and the boys should go to the other hotel without delay.
Jack Wumble wished to put up at a hotel called the Miner's Rest, a favorite resort with men from the mining districts. He had been negotiating for the sale of one of his mines, and thought he could close the deal the next morning. "And then we'll be off for Larkspur Creek without further delay," was what he told Dick.
"I hope the lightning doesn't come near us here." If anything, the rain now came down heavier than before, until Jack Wumble declared it to be the greatest downpour he had ever witnessed in that section of the country. The water leaped over the rocks in tiny waterfalls, and soon Larkspur Creek became a raging torrent. The sky was inky black, and they could not see a dozen paces in any direction.
Then Tom and Dick were introduced, and more handshaking followed, and the boys felt that they had found a true friend beyond a doubt. "I'm more than glad to have met you as we did," said Dick, a little later, after Jack Wumble had asked the boys about their father. "I think it has saved us from getting into a lot of trouble."
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