"You did!" exclaimed Phil. "We heard only two shots!"

"I fired later on, after he left the trail. He was just gittin' ready to aim his gun ag'in when I caught him. His arm went down like lead, an'

the gun dropped to the ground; so I know I winged him. He didn't shoot no more, only got into the timber quick as he could. Then I rounded up the hosses an' started back."

"Who was it, do you know?" questioned Dave.

"It was Ham Staver. I suppose Sol Blugg and Larry Jaley sent him ahead to steal the hosses. They thought it would be easy, with us asleep."

"It came pretty near being so," answered Dave, gravely.

Tom Dillon was glad enough to rest, and to partake of the hearty meal the boys prepared for him. The horses were cared for, and the boys were pleased to learn that they had not suffered through the wild run along the rocky trail.

"If that Staver shows himself around b.u.t.te I'll settle accounts with him," said the old miner, while eating. "But I reckon he'll stay away for a while."

After an hour's rest the old miner announced that he was ready to go forward once more. The sun was now well in the west, and it was not near so hot as it had been in the middle of the day.

"I wish we could catch up to the Blower party by to-night," said Roger, earnestly. "Mr. Dillon, do you think we can do it?"

"We can try, lad. But you must remember, we'll have to favor the hosses a leetle. They have had a mighty hard run on't."

"I know. Well, don't go any further than you deem wise."

For the distance of half a mile the trail was comparatively good. But then they came to an uneven locality, filled with dangerous holes and pitfalls.

"Careful here, boys!" cried Tom Dillon. "We don't want none o' the hosses to break a leg."

He was in the lead, and under his guidance they advanced slowly. At the top of a short rise of ground he came to a halt.

"Here is where part o' that landslide occurred," he announced, pointing with his hand. "I think myself it was somethin' of an earthquake, although the scientific sharps say not. But if it wasn't an earthquake it was mighty queer that it hit this spot and the other at the same time--both bein' miles apart."

"Perhaps the shock of the falling rocks at one place shook the other,"

suggested Dave.

"Perhaps, lad. It's a mystery--an' I suppose it will remain a mystery.

We know some things about Nater, but there's others she keeps putty well hid."

They went down on the other side of the rise, and then commenced to mount an even larger hill--the last but one, so the old miner told the boys. Far in the distance they could make out the railroad tracks, winding along through the mountains. The sun was setting, and the western sky was aflame with varied colors of most gorgeous hues.

"What a beautiful sunset!" murmured Dave.

Soon the gloom of evening commenced to settle about them. All had their eyes ahead, but so far they had seen no trace of the Blower party.

"Wait a minute!" cried Dave, presently. He had seen something white fluttering among the rocks on the side of the trail.

"What do you see?" asked Phil.

"A newspaper."

"Oh, let it go, Dave. We have all the old newspapers we want."

"I want to see how recent it is," was our hero's reply.

He got down, walked to where the paper rested in a crevice, and drew it forth.

"It's a copy of a mining journal," he announced, as he looked the sheet over. "The issue for last week," he added, gazing at the date. "It's full of grease, too,--that's why they threw it away."

"Do you suppose it belonged to Abe Blower?" questioned Roger, coming up.

"It did!" cried Dave. He had turned to the front page of the paper.

"See, here is Abe Blower's name and address, stamped on for mailing purposes. He got it through the mail just before he left and took it along to wrap something in."

"Then that proves we are on the right trail!" cried Roger, joyfully. "I wonder how long ago it was when he threw the paper away?"

"I'm not detective enough to tell you that, Roger," answered Dave, with a grin. "But it's something to know we are on the right trail. They might have taken to that cross trail, you know. We'll catch up to them sooner or later."

Once more our friends went forward, this time along the very edge of the new ridge that had shown itself after the great landslide. They had to advance with caution, for loose stones were numerous and so were dangerous holes.

"We can't go much further to-night," announced Tom Dillon; presently.

"This trail ain't safe in the dark."

"All right, Mr. Dillon, we'll stop when you say so," returned Roger, with a bit of a sigh. "How much further to where the Landslide Mine was located?"

"Not over two miles, as the crows fly, lad; but four to five miles by the trail."

They went into camp in the very midst of the rocks. Strange as it may seem, there was water there, coming from a tiny spring under a huge boulder. It had a somewhat unpleasant odor, and the horses at first refused it, but the old miner said it was drinkable.

"Only you don't want to live on it all the year around," he added, with a grin. "A doctor onct tole me if you did that you might turn into stone!"

"I know what I am going to do, as soon as it gets dark enough," said Dave to his chums, while they were preparing supper.

"What?" asked the other boys.

"I am going to look for the campfire of that crowd ahead."

"Of course!" cried Roger. "And, Dave, if it isn't too far off, maybe we can walk to it!" he added, quickly.

"So I was thinking."

Eagerly the three boys waited for the darkness of night to fall, in the meanwhile getting supper and tidying up the camp. Then they climbed to the top of the highest rock that was at hand and looked around them.

"I see a fire!" cried Dave, and pointed it out.

"Yes, and it looks to be less than a mile away!" returned Roger.

"Let's walk to it!" put in Phil.

And on this plan the three chums quickly agreed.