Slowly, the motor car fighting against the grade, the trip was accomplished.

Then the four men leaped from the machine at the last rise before the tunnel was reached and three of them went forward afoot toward where a slight gleam of light came from the mouth of the Blue Poppy.
A consultation and then the creeping forms made the last fifty feet.
The sheriff took the lead, at last to stop behind a boulder and to shout a command: "Hey you, in there." "'Ey yourself!" It was Harry's voice.
"Come out--and be quick about it.

Hold your light in front of your face with both hands." "The 'ell I will! And 'oo 's talking ?" "Sheriff Adams of Clear Creek County.

You 've got one minute to come out--or I 'll shoot." "I 'm coming on the run!" And almost instantly the form of Harry, his acetylene lamp lighting up his bulbous, surprised countenance with its spraylike mustache, appeared at the mouth of the tunnel.
"What the bloody 'ell ?" he gasped, as he looked into the muzzle of the revolver.

From down the mountain side came the shout of one of the deputies: "Sheriff! Looks like it's him, all right.