"He's a gol dern lazy little beggar!" said Gallup. "An' he oughter hev to wash his face once in a while."

The evening was cool and agreeable. The sun dropped peacefully behind the mountains and the shadows gathered deeply in the gorges and canons.

The roar of the stamps sank to silence, and peace lay like a prayer on the valley.

Frank and his friends sat about the cabin door and chatted of old times.

Sometimes they sang little s.n.a.t.c.hes of the old songs.

And as the darkness deepened a slender, boyish figure lay on his stomach and wiggled cautiously nearer and nearer, taking the utmost pains not to be seen.

This eavesdropper was Pablo, and he evinced the greatest interest in all they were saying; but it was when Frank spoke or sang that he listened with the utmost attention, keeping perfectly still. Thus it was that the boy heard Hodge say:

"Merriwell, I'm half-inclined to believe that dirty little Mexican rascal is a fakir. I suspect him."

"Of what?" asked Frank.

"Of being a spy. He told a slick tale, but I've had time to think it over, and somehow it seems too thin. Why shouldn't Bill send him here to play the spy?"

"My dear Bart," said Merry, with a laugh, "what would be Bill's object?

What could the boy do?"

"He might get a chance to put a knife in your back, old man."

"I'll chance it. I do not believe Pablo that bad. I'll trust him."

"Well, I wouldn't trust any greaser."

"I hate you, Senor Hodge!" whispered the listening boy, to himself. "I hate you; but I lofe Frank Merriwell!"

The miners gathered near their quarters. As far as possible, Frank had secured miners who were not Mexicans, but there were a few Mexicans among them.

Among the men were some who were hard characters when they were drinking, and Merry had taken particular pains to make rules and regulations to keep liquor away from them.

The morning after the encounter between Pablo and Jim, the foreman, Frank arose and flung open the door of his cabin, but immediately made the discovery that a sheet of paper was pinned to the door with a knife.

"h.e.l.lo!" he exclaimed. "Here's something interesting!"

Gallup came slouching forward, followed by Ready.

"What, ho!" cried Jack, as his eyes fell on the knife and the paper.

"Methinks I see something! Hist! That is what the tragic actor said when he appeared upon the stage. He crept in and looked around, after which he said, 'Hist!' And he was hissed."

"By gum!" cried Ephraim. "There's writin' written on it! What does it say?"

This is what they read written sprawlingly on the sheet of paper that was pinned to the door by the knife:

"FRANK MERRIWELL: You are hearby giv notis that you are to send away the boy Pablo instanter. He promised to come to his sister, and he has not come. You are warned not to keep him. BILL."

Frank looked at the notice and laughed.

"Well," he said, "that is rather interesting. So Bill wants the boy? Why doesn't he come and take him?"

Hodge came and read the notice, a deep frown on his darkly handsome face.

"What do you make of it, Merry?" he asked.

"Give us your opinion."

"Nerve."

"Shall we give up the boy?"

Now Bart had not favored Pablo, but at this juncture he grimly declared:

"I'm against it."

"Good!" nodded Merry. "Let Bill come and take him! If the boy's story is true, it would not be a healthy thing for him to fall into Bill's hands."

Just as he spoke these words Jim Tracy came around the corner and appeared on the scene. He halted, appearing surprised, and stared at the knife and the notice.

"Whatever is it?" he asked.

"Something left there during the night," said Merry. "Read it."

Tracy looked it over.

"Well, Bill sure wants the greaser kid," he said, "an' I reckon you'd best give the youngster up."

"Why do you reckon that?"

"Cimarron Bill is a heap dangerous."

"He may be," said Merry; "but he has failed thus far to get ahead of me.

I don't like his notice, if this came from him. But I thought you took pains to have the place guarded at night, Tracy?"

"So I does, sir."

"Then how did Bill or any of his gang manage to creep up here and pin this to my door?"

"That I can't say, sir."

"I think I'll look after things to-night," said Frank grimly. "If we're getting careless around here Bill may walk in some night and seize the mine before we know a thing of what's going to happen."

He jerked the knife from the door, took the paper and placed it in his pocket, after which he indicated that he was ready to speak with the foreman, who had some matter of business to discuss.

When Tracy departed Frank sat down and meditated, for he had noticed something peculiar and remarkable.

There were ink-stains upon the thumb and two of the fingers of Jim Tracy's right hand.