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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Say, is there a man named Jack Wumble stopping here?" he demanded. "Jack Wumble," repeated the clerk slowly. "That's what I said." "There is a Jack Wimple stopping here but he is out gone to St. Louis." "Jack Wimple? He's not the man," and the old miner fell back and repeated what had been said to the three boys. "Perhaps Bradner made a mistake," suggested Tom. "But I don't believe it."
Nobody was in sight, nor could he hear a sound saving the hoof beats of his own horse. He drew rein instantly. "Dick!" he called loudly. "Jack Wumble! Where are you?" Not a sound came in reply not even the cry of a bird all was absolutely silent. Tom gave something of a gasp. He realized his position only too well. He was lost in the mountains. "Oh, what a fool I was to fall asleep!"
It was past the breakfast hour, yet none of them felt like eating. "Be careful how you expose yourself," observed Jack Wumble, as he screened himself and his horse behind some brush. "It won't do no good to Tom to let your enemies see you." "If only we hadn't lost the trail," sighed Sam.
"I know the clerk," said Bradner. "I'll ask him about your friend." And before Dick could stop him he had pushed his way to the desk and was talking in a low tone to the clerk. Dick tried to catch what was said, but was unable to do so. "You are in luck," said Bradner, on coming back. "The clerk says Jack Wumble has gone off for the day, but said he would be back by to-night sure."
"I can't stand this any longer!" And he rushed off with the tears standing in his eyes. The others were also affected, and glad enough to leave the place, once and forever. Wumble and Slim Jim threw Roebuck's body into a hollow and placed some dirt over it, and then built up a little mound of stones to mark the spot.
But they were "stumped," to use Sam's way of expressing it, and with nothing better to do, Jack Wumble drew further back into the bushes, tethered his horse and got out the provisions for a meal. The boys ate mechanically and were soon done. Then Wumble got out his pipe and began to smoke more vigorously than ever. "If we had a field glass we might spot him," he observed.
"Do you advise us to go back?" asked Dick hastily. "I can't say as I do, lads," was the slow response. "Yet it might be better to do that nor to be shot down and have yer body thrown into a canyon," added Wumble, speaking in his old time vernacular. "Perhaps your father would rather have ye back." "I don't believe it," burst out Tom. "Father never wanted cowards for sons."
"I was watching a rascal who tried to make trouble for me." "Then there must be more to this case than what you just told me." "There is." "In that case you had better go to police headquarters with me." "I am willing. But won't you wait until my brother gets here?" There was no need to wait, for at that moment Tom appeared on the scene, accompanied by Jack Wumble.
"Not but wot ye run away with them hosses slick enough," he added slyly. Dick's disappearance sobered Tom greatly. "Can it be possible that he has been drowned?" he asked. "I crawled down to the river, but couldn't find hide nor hair of him," answered Wumble. Soon all were on the way to the old hotel. As they drew closer Yates warned them to be cautious.
Soon the city was left behind, and then began a journey along the foothills which seemed to have no end. "If Arnold Baxter is watching us he is taking precious good care to keep out of sight," said Tom, as they rode along in single file, with Jack Wumble in the lead. "No doubt Dan has joined his father and told him of Bradner's fate," returned Dick. "But we have got to keep our eyes wide open.
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