"And that would be mighty bad luck," continued Mosely, with a
shudder.
"I should say so, Bill."
In fact, Mosely felt that their situation was not likely to be made
worse by a new theft. Only thirty miles away was a party of miners
with whom they had worked in company, but without much success,
till, emboldened by temptation and opportunity, they had stolen a
bag of gold-dust from a successful comrade, and fled under cover of
the night.
In the primitive state of society at the mines, stealing was a
capital offense, and if they were caught their lives would probably
pay the penalty. Even now some of the injured party might be on
their track, and this naturally inspired them with uneasiness. Thus
they were between two fires, and, in spite of the fear with which
Bradley had inspired them, it looked as if another theft would
conduce to their safety. If they carried away the mustangs, Bradley
and Ben, even if they hit on the right trail, would have to pursue
them on foot, and among the Sierras a man is no match for a mustang
in speed and endurance.
"I've a great mind to carry off them mustangs," said Mosely
thoughtfully. "Are you with me?"
"I should say so.
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