about eight o'clock in the morning
Tom having departed to his work again , Joe and I once more went into town , where we spent the time going about , listening to the talk of the people , who were still standing in groups on the street corners , discussing the great events of the day . But if the people were excited , as they certainly were , their excitement was a mere flutter in comparison with the storm which swept over the community next morning . The ten sacks of high-grade ore had been stolen during the night ! The news came down about eight o'clock in the morning , when , at once , and with one accord , all the men in the place who could get away swarmed up to the Pelican -- we among them . The thief , whoever he was , was evidently familiar with the workings of the mine , for , going round into Stony Gulch , he had forced the door at the exit of the old tunnel , cutting out the staple with auger and saw , and then , clambering through the disused , waste-encumbered drifts , he had carried out the little sacks one by one and made away with them somehow . Wrapping his feet in old rags in order to disguise his foot-prints , he had taken the sacks of ore across the gulch to the stony ground beyond , where his boots would leave no impression , and there all trace of him was lost . Whether he had buried the sacks somewhere near by , or , if not , how he had managed to spirit them away , were matters of general speculation ; though to most minds the question was settled when one of Yetmore 's clerks came hastily up to the mine and called out that the roan pony and the two-wheeled delivery cart , used to carry packages up to the mines , were missing .