"
"It's time you were awake!" said Ben hurriedly. "Those fellows have
stolen our mustangs!"
"What's that you say?" ejaculated Bradley, now thoroughly awake.
"The mustangs are gone, and they are gone!" said Ben.
"When did you find it out?"
"Only just now. I was sleepy, and overslept myself."
"Half-past seven o'clock," said Bradley, referring to a cheap silver
watch which he had bought for a trifle from a miner at Murphy's who
was hard up. "I'm afraid they must have been gone some time. It's a
bad lookout for us, Ben."
"So it is, Jake. You thought they wouldn't dare to take anything."
"No more I thought they would. That Bill Mosely bragged so much I
didn't think he had enough pluck."
"Does it take much pluck to be a thief, Jake?"
"Well, in Californy it does," answered Bradley. "When a man steals a
boss here, he takes his life in his hand, and don't you forget it.
If it was only a year in the penitentiary, or something like that,
it wouldn't scare 'em so bad. That Mosely's a bad lot, and will
likely die in his boots."
"What's that?"
"Be shot standing, or swing from the branch of a tree. I thought I'd
said enough last night to put him off the notion of playin' us such
a trick.
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