"If I had not been tolerably well posted in backwoods lore, I could not have made head or tail out of these pictures," said Tom; and as he spoke he thought over all the lessons he had learned from the Indians and darkies in the swamp. "Elam is going out to gather his traps, and if he does not come home before to-morrow, I need not bother my head about it. What is he going to gather up his traps for? I shall have to wait till he comes home to have that explained, and now I'll go to work and get some breakfast."

Tom had used up nearly all the wood to replenish the fire, and he began casting his eyes about the shanty to see if Elam had another pair of shoes in waiting to be put on when his own boots became wet, and found some moccasons with a pair of stockings neatly folded and hung beside them. Elam had worn them once, but that did not matter. He put them on, and, seeing Elam's axe resting in one corner, caught it up and went out to renew his supply of fire-wood. Hearing the blows of the axe, the horse came up and snorted at him, but could not be induced to come near. This made it plain that the man who attempted to rob Elam would have to leave his horse behind.

Tom chopped until his appetite began to get the better of him, and then went in and busied himself about his breakfast. He left the door open (for all the light that was admitted to the cabin came through a space in the roof over the fireplace through which the smoke escaped), and told himself that for one who had never seen the comforts of civilized life Elam was able to copy pretty close to them. There was a table whose top was made of boards hewed out of a log and smoothed with an axe, and one or two three-legged stools without any backs, which proved that Elam sometimes had company. The clothing he had worn was neatly hung up at one corner of the cabin, and underneath was something which Tom had not noticed before: two bundles of skins, nicely tied up and waiting to be shipped. They were wolf-skins, and close by them lay half a dozen skins of the beaver and otter, not enough to be tied up.

"I know what he meant when he said that I was welcome to the cabin of Elam, the wolfer," said Tom. "Somebody has either grub-staked him and sent him out here to catch wolves or else he is working for himself. Now, where's the spring? I must have some water for my coffee."

Tom easily found the pail of which he was in search, and, going out behind the cabin, he followed the path he had noticed while cutting wood. It ran through a quiet grove of evergreens, and finally ended in a little pool in which Elam found his water. Coming back to the cabin, he could not find any coffee-pot, but he found a pan which seemed to have been used for nothing but coffee, filled it with water, placed it on coals he had raked off to one side, and covered it with one of Elam's pictures. With his breakfast fairly going, with his coffee and bacon on the coals, and his johnny cake and clean dishes on the table by his elbow, he settled back on his stool as complacently as though he had never known anything better.

"I don't know what sort of a conscience Elam's got, but if he's got a tolerably fair one, it seems to me that he ought to be well contented with this life," said Tom. "He was born to this thing, and, consequently, don't know anything better; but as for me, there isn't money enough in it. But, then, he thinks he is going to find that nugget. Well, I'd like to find it myself, but I am not going to bother with it with such a fellow as Elam in the way. I don't want to test those muscles."

Tom had come to that country to make money; he wasn't going to test anybody's muscle in order to make it, but he was going to make it. In spite of all the obstacles that were thrown in his way—and he met with no greater loss than any tender-foot is likely to meet—he carried back to his uncle half as much money as he stole from him, and his uncle was glad to see him, too. This was all in the future, and Tom knew nothing of it. He ate his breakfast with great satisfaction, getting up from the table once in a while to examine something new in Elam's outfit, and when it was done, he washed the dishes and put everything back just as he had found it. Then there was nothing left for him to do but to cut wood until Elam came. The latter would be cold and wet from handling those muddy traps, and there would be nothing wanting but a fire for him to get up to. Every once in a while he dropped his axe and went out to the edge of the evergreens to see if he could discover Elam returning, but always came away disappointed. One thing he continually marvelled at, and that was the scarcity of game. If anyone had told him that he could leave his gun and wander away by himself, he would have thought him foolish; and here he had been alone in the mountains nearly a month and had not seen anything—not even a jack-rabbit—to shoot at. Had it not been for that Red Ghost, or whatever it was, that visited him the night he stayed in the pocket, his gun would have been as clean when he took it back as when he came out with it. At last, when everything began to grow indistinct, and Tom had put away his axe and piled up the wood, he looked for Elam again, resolved if he could not see him to go into the cabin, haul in the string, and get his supper; but there was Elam half-way across the prairie, and, furthermore, he was struggling under a weight about as heavy as he could well carry.

"They are wolf-skins," said he, as Tom hurried up to him and took his rifle from his grasp. "I've got eighteen, and two otters. How are you, Tender-foot? Got over your sleep yet?"

Tom replied that he had got all the slumber he wanted, and then went on to tell Elam that he knew where he had gone, and if he did not return that night, he would not have been at all worried about it, and that he had got the knowledge from the pictures he had left on the table, and Elam seemed very much pleased.

"You can't read or write, can you?" asked Tom. "I thought not, but you drew those pictures as though you had taken lessons in drawing. I have got a good warm fire for you."

Although there were many things that he was anxious to question Elam about, Tom did not trouble him until he had had his supper and had shaken up the skins preparatory to enjoying his after-supper smoke. Tom followed his example and stretched himself out beside him, pulling off his moccasons so that he could have the full benefit of the fire.

"Now, Tender-foot, what brought you out to this country?" said Elam, pulling up a bundle of wolf-skins so that he could rest his head upon it. "Tell me the truth and don't stick at nothing."

Tom replied that there wasn't very much to tell, and went on and revealed to Elam as much of his story as he was willing that a stranger should know; but he didn't tell him a word about his fuss with Our Fellows, or of his stealing five thousand dollars, or of his association with gamblers. In short, he gave him to understand that he was hard up, that he wanted to go to Texas and had got on to the wrong boat and been brought up there. He told him the truth about his meeting with Mr. Kelley and his two cowboys, for he did not know but that Elam might see them some day.

"I didn't know a thing about this country," said Tom, in conclusion, "and Mr. Parsons grub-staked me and sent me out to find a gold mine."

"Haw-ha! You had about as much chance of finding gold here as you would in New Orleans," said Elam, as soon as his merriment would allow him to speak. "The only gold here is my nugget, and that was buried two years ago. Didn't he tell you about that?"

"Yes, he told me about the nugget, but he also told me that by digging after it I might strike another gold mine, as some others had done before me. But if I ever go again, I don't want to follow such a man as went before me."

"Who was it? Was it somebody who was working on Parsons' place?"

"Yes. He was an elderly man, who seemed to take more interest in me than anybody else. He told me that the only reason he didn't strike the nugget was because he didn't dig in the right place."

"Haw-ha!" laughed Elam.

"And the only reason he didn't dig in the right place was because the nugget couldn't be thrown out with two or three spadefuls of earth," continued Tom. "I followed along after him for two weeks, and in every camping-place there were two shovelfuls of dirt flung out. If a hen had been scratching for that nugget, she would have made better headway."

"He was on the right track, anyhow," said Elam. "If he had kept on till he came to that pocket, he would have found it. That would have given me a job, for I would a heap sooner find it in the dirt than take it out of a man's pack."

"If a man was to find that nugget——"

"Yes, sir, I would," said Elam savagely. "It is mine, and I'm a-going to have it, I don't care who unearths it. Do you suppose you could find your way back to that pocket?"

"No, sir; I couldn't," said Tom, drawing a long breath of dismay. "In the first place, there's the Red Ghost. If you had seen it——"

"Haven't I seen it?" demanded Elam. "It has got the marks of some of my bullets."

"It must bear the marks of a good many bullets, and I don't see why some of them did not hit it in the proper place. What do you suppose it is, anyway?"

"Why, it's a ghost, I tell you. If it wasn't, some of those bullets would have struck it in the proper spot, I bet you."

"If it's a ghost, you can't kill it."

"Can't, hey? I'll bet you that I can."

"It looked to me just like a camel," said Tom, who did not like the way Elam glared at him every time he struck on this subject.

"A camel! What's them?"

"An animal they make use of in foreign countries to carry heavy burdens for them. But, Elam, how came it to appear to you? It don't show itself to anybody else who hunts in these mountains, does it?"

"Certainly it does. The history of this nugget is known all over the country, and if any man has it on his mind, he may be a hundred miles from here, but that makes no difference; it appears to that fellow and scares him off. Now, wait till I tell you."

This brought Elam to his story, and he entered upon it a good deal as Uncle Ezra did, beginning with the massacre of the soldiers who were sent out to pay the garrison at Grayson, and ending with the fight between the two miners in the mountains. He seemed to know right where the nugget had been ever since it was unearthed. At any rate, he told a pretty straight story, and when it was ended filled up his pipe and looked at Tom to see what he thought about it.



CHAPTER XI.

UNWELCOME VISITORS.

"I did think for a time that I should find my father and the nugget together, and even gave it out among the sheep-and cattle-growers who would listen to me," continued Elam, taking a few long pulls at his pipe. "But I have since given that idea up. I didn't say anything to the men hereabouts, for it kinder ran in my head after a while that they thought I was luny on the subject; so I just kept my ideas to myself. You see, the thing couldn't have gone through so many hands without my hearing something of my father, but, search high or low, I never heared a word about him. The old man is dead. He was killed when the robbers made their assault on the train, and the nugget has been doing all this of itself."

"All what of itself?" asked Tom.

"Why, it has been bobbing up and bobbing down," replied Elam. "One day you know where it is, and by the time you get on the track of it it has gone up, nobody knows where."

For a long time Tom did not say anything. The story seemed so real—as real as that he was sitting on his couch of furs, with his feet tucked under him, gazing hard into the fire. It did not seem possible that the story could get abroad, and so many men believe it, and here this one was known two hundred miles away. There must be something in it.

"Well," said Elam, "do you think I am crazy?"

"I don't know what to think," said Tom. "Such a story never got wind in the settlements."

"Of course it didn't. There's a heap more things that happen out here than you think for. There isn't one man in ten who would believe about that ghost."

"No, sir," said Tom emphatically. "And I don't know what to believe about it, either, and I have seen it. Are you going up there to that pocket?"

"I am going to start day after to-morrow if you will show me the way. When I strike the nugget, I will give you half."

The proposition almost took Tom's breath away. All that amount of money for facing the Red Ghost! Now that he had got safely out of reach of it and had heard so much about its going everywhere it pleased, here to-day and a hundred miles away to-morrow, Tom was obliged to confess that there was more of a ghost about it than he was at first willing to suppose. But there was his horse with the broken lariat! No ghost could do a thing like that.

"You see, I shall spend to-morrow in gathering in my traps," said Elam. "I may not come back, you know, and I don't want to leave them out where everybody can steal them, and when they are all in, I shall be ready to start."

When Elam said this, Tom picked up a burned chunk, threw it on the fire, and laid down again. If Elam thought he wasn't going to come back, what was the use of his visiting the pocket? Tom had about concluded that he would not go.

"No, I may not come back," said Elam, anxious that Tom should learn just how desperate the undertaking was, "and while I don't want to have my traps stolen, I want to leave them where someone can use them. Then I will pack my spelter on my horse and go to the nighest post—it is just a jump from here—and trade it off for provisions. We can easy get them as far as here."

"Yes; but what will you do from here on? You won't have any bronco to carry them for you."

"We will pack it on our backs. It's a poor hunter who can't go into the woods and carry provisions enough for two weeks."

"And what if the Red Ghost appears? The first thing it will pitch into will be ourselves. I don't think I will go. I have got all over prospecting for gold, and wish that summer might come so that I can go to work herding cattle."

"Well, I know what will happen to you then," said Elam.

"Well, what will happen to me then?" said Tom, after waiting for his companion to finish what he had on his mind.

"You'll go plumb crazy; that's what will happen to you. You will be set to riding the line——"

"What's that?" interrupted Tom.

"Why, riding up and down a fence, or rather where the fence ought to be, to see that none of your cattle break away. It will take you two days to make a trip, and you will get so tired of it that you will finally skip out and leave the line to take care of itself. But all right. You go to bed and sleep on it, and if it doesn't look better in the morning, I'll say no more about it. I will go by myself."

With something like a sigh of regret Elam turned over and prepared to go to sleep. There was no undressing, no handling of blankets, but just as he was he was all ready to go to slumber. Tom felt sorry for him, and, besides, he knew how Mr. Parsons and the cowboys would look upon such a proceeding if it should once get to their ears. And he didn't see any way to prevent it. If Elam's story was able to travel for two hundred miles, the idea that he was afraid to face the Red Ghost would travel, too, and then what would be his prospect of getting employment with Mr. Parsons? And, besides, there was a chance for him to go "plumb crazy" while riding the line and seeing that the cattle did not break through. That was another thing that was against Tom.

"I am afraid I am unlucky, after all," thought he, once more arranging his bunch of furs. "I am sent out into the mountains to prospect for gold, when there isn't any gold in sight except what belongs to Elam, here, and have the promise that when summer comes I shall be given a chance." Then aloud: "Say, Elam, does a fellow have to ride this line at first, and before he can call himself a full-fledged cowboy?"

"Sure," said Elam; "he must get used to everything that is done on the ranch. He must begin at the lowest round of the ladder and work his way up."

"Well," said Tom to himself, "I just aint a-going to do it. I'll just go to sleep on it now, and if the thing looks better to me to-morrow than it does to-night, I'll stick to your heels."

While Tom was thinking about it, he fell asleep. When he awoke the next morning, it was broad daylight, but he was alone. Elam must have moved with stealthy footsteps while he was getting breakfast; but there was everything on the table just as he found it on the previous morning, and the pictures which Elam had drawn, and which Tom had placed on the wall so that they could be easily seen, had been taken down and put where he had seen them the day before.

"I hope to goodness that I will get through with my sleep after a while," thought Tom, as he proceeded to put on his moccasons. "He has gone out to gather the rest of his traps, and I am left to decide whether or not I will go with him. Well, I will go. If that fellow is not afraid of the ghost, I'm not, either. I know it isn't a ghost, but he thinks it is, and we'll see who will show the most pluck."

Tom went about his business with alacrity, and in an hour the breakfast was eaten and the dishes put away. Then he had nothing to do but to cut a supply of wood for Elam, though he didn't know how it was going to be of any use to him, seeing that he was going to the mountains; but it was better than sitting idle all day, and so Tom went at it, throwing the wood as fast as he cut it in under the eaves of the cabin, where it would be protected from the weather. At last the wood that was down was all cut, and Tom, leaning on his axe with one hand, and scratching his head with the other, was looking around to determine what tree ought to come down next, when he happened to glance toward the path where it emerged from the evergreens and ran up to the door of the house, and discovered two men standing there with their arms at a ready. If they had tried to come up under cover of his chopping they had succeeded admirably. They might have approached close to him, and even laid hold upon him, and Tom never would have known it until he found himself in their grasp.

Of all the sorry-looking specimens that Tom had ever seen since he came West these were the beat. Elam would have been ashamed to be seen in their company. His clothes were whole and clean, while these men had scarcely an article between them that was not in need of repairs. Their hats, coats, and trousers ought long ago to have gone to the ragman; and as for their boots—they had none, wearing moccasons instead. Tom felt that something was going to happen. He knew he was growing pale, but leaned with both hands upon his axe and tried not to show it.

"Howdy, pard?" said one of the men, looking all around.

"How are you?" said Tom.

He would have been glad to step into the cabin and get his rifle, but he noticed that the men stood between him and the doorway.

"Whar's your pardner?" asked the man.

"He is around here somewhere," said Tom, shouldering his axe and starting for the door. "What do you want?"

"I want to know if you have anything to eat? We have been out looking for some steers that have broke away, and we've got kinder out of our reckonin'."

"Who are you working for?"

"For ole man Parsons. Our horses got away from us, too, and didn't leave us so much as a hunk of bacon."

"I don't believe a word of your story," said Tom, who knew from the start that the man was lying. "But come in. I reckon Elam would give you something if he was here, though, to tell you the truth, we haven't got much."

"So Elam is your pardner, is he?"

"You seem to know him pretty well."

"Oh, yes. Elam and I have been hunting many a time."

"He's liable to come back at any minute," returned Tom, who wished there was some truth in what he was saying. "He has just stepped out to look at some traps. I don't see what keeps him so long, for of course you will be glad to see him."

Tom had by this time got inside the cabin, closely followed by the two men, who, he noticed, did not go very far from the door. One of them hauled a stool up beside it and sat down where he could keep a close watch on everything that went on outside, and the other kept so close to Tom that the latter could not have used his axe if he had tried it. Tom wanted to get his hands on his rifle, but one of the men had placed himself directly in front of it so that his broad shoulders were between him and the weapon. The men pushed back their hats and took a survey of the interior of the cabin while Tom was getting down the side of bacon, and finally one of them discovered the pile of wolf-skins which Elam had tied up and left in the corner. With a smile and a muttered ejaculation he walked over and examined it.

"Elam's at his ole tricks, aint he?" said he, after he had tested the skins and tried to determine by the weight of them how many there were in the package. "How many do you reckon he's got here? So many skins at forty-five dollars apiece would be—how much would it be, Tender-foot?"

Tom was rather taken aback by this style of address. He had tried to play himself off on the men as one to the manor born, but his language, his dress, or something had given him away entirely. The man spoke to him as if he was as well acquainted with his history as Elam was.

"I don't reckon we want anything to eat do we, Aleck?" continued the man, lifting the bundle and carrying it back to the door with him. "If you see anybody else coming along here that's hard up for grub——"

"Here—you!" exclaimed Tom, throwing down his axe and making an effort to take the bundle from the man. "Put that down, if you know when you are well off."

"If you know when you are well off, you will keep your hands to yourself and sit down thar," said the man, and at the same time the one who had been addressed as Aleck arose to his feet, cocking his rifle as he did so. "Oh, you needn't call for Elam, 'cause we know where he is as well as you do," he continued, as Tom thrust both men aside and started post haste for the door. "Now, Tender-foot, just go and behave yourself. We know that Elam has gone out to attend to his traps and won't be back before night, and so we've got all the time we want. Sit down."

Tom saw it all now. The men had evidently watched Elam from the time he started out, until they saw him pick up one trap and set out for another, and had then made up their minds to rob him. They little expected to find a tender-foot behind to watch his cabin, and had consequently made up their story on the spur of the moment.

"Aleck, you will find your bundle over thar," said the man, "and there are some otter-skins you can take, too. This rifle I will just take with me and leave it agin some rocks out here whar you can easy find it. Mind you, we haint done you no harm so far, but don't come nigh this rifle under an hour. You hear me?"

Tom said nothing in reply. He watched Aleck as he picked up the other bundle and otter-skins (he left the eighteen Elam had brought in the night before, because they were not cured), flung them over his shoulder, and joined his companion at the door, where the latter had already taken charge of the rifle.

"You haint disremembered what I've told you?" he said, in savage tones. "You come out in one hour and you can find the rifle; but you come out before that time expires and ten to one but you will get a ball through your head."

Tom still made no reply, and the robbers went out as noiselessly as they had come in. He listened, but did not hear the snapping of a twig or the swishing of bushes to prove that they had worked their way through the thicket of evergreens to the natural prairie along which Elam was to come.

"Well, now, I am beat," drawing a long breath of relief, thrusting his feet out in front of him, and putting his hands into his pockets. "So it seems that Elam isn't so very happy, after all, and that, no matter where one gets, he's going to have trouble. Here he's been working like a nailer for—I don't know how long he's been out here—until it seems to me——What's that?" he added, as his feet came in contact with a small buckskin bag which one of the robbers had dropped.

Tom bent over and saw that one side of the string was broken. The bag had been tied around the man's neck, and had worked its way down until it found an opening at the bottom of his trousers above his moccasons. The man had never noticed it, and this was the first Tom had seen of it. It was small, but it was well filled, and Tom began to look about for a place to hide it.

"Let him take the skins if he wants to, and I'll take this," said he, getting up and looking first into one place and then into another, and making up his mind each time that that was a poor spot to hide things. "He may miss it before he has gone a great ways, and I don't want him to know that he has left that much behind. Just as soon as he goes away I'll take it out and examine it."

Tom, who was not so badly frightened as some boys would have been, made his way toward the door and finally went out, but could hear no signs of the robbers. He removed some sticks from the pile of wood he had cut and there placed the bag, covering it over as if nothing had been disturbed, and then struck up a lively whistle and started down the path. The robbers were not in sight, but there was Elam's horse just quenching his thirst at the brook, and that proved that his companion had not been stolen afoot, anyway.

"I'll be perfectly safe if I try to find the rifle now," said Tom, as he began beating around through the bushes. "By George! I hope they haven't carried the gun off with them. They couldn't, for their packs were too heavy."

Here was a new apprehension, and it started Tom to work with increased speed; and it was only after an hour's steady search that he found the gun hidden where nobody would have thought of looking for it. It was uninjured, and this made it plain that the only object the robbers had in view was to rob Elam.

"They've got just sixteen skins or I'm mistaken," said Tom, shouldering his recovered rifle and retracing his steps to camp. "Sixteen skins at forty-five dollars would be worth seven hundred dollars and better. That's quite a nice little sum to rake out before dinner. Now, my next care is to examine that bag."

Arriving at the wood-pile, the bag was taken out and carried into the cabin. Tom caught it by the bottom and emptied its contents on the table, first taking care, however, to place his rifle across his knees, where it could be seized in case of emergency. He was surprised at the contents of the little bag. In the first place there was some money tightly wrapped up in folds of buckskin, and when Tom unfolded it to see how much there was, two yellow-boys rolled out.

"Hurrah! Here's something to pay for the stolen skins," said Tom, and, hastily putting the money into his pocket, he caught up his rifle and hastened out of doors to listen for some sounds of the returning robbers. Everything was silent. The men were gone, and Tom had nothing to do but to examine the bag in peace.

"I am glad they didn't do anything more," thought he, as he went in and seated himself at the table. "If they had wanted to do mischief, they might have pulled a chunk from the fire and set the whole thing to going, but instead of doing that they just contented themselves with robbing us. Forty dollars. Where did they get it? Two gold eagles and bills enough to make up the balance. Here's tobacco enough to last both of them a week; needles and thread, so it don't seem to me that they ought to have been satisfied to go around with their jackets full of holes, as I saw them, and——What's this? It's something pretty precious, I guess, because it is wrapped up tightly."

It was a small parcel tied up in buckskin that caught Tom's eye just then. It was so neatly wrapped up in numerous folds that by the time Tom got them unfolded he fully expected to find some quartz or some more gold pieces; but when he brought it to light, there was nothing but a little piece of paper, with ordinary lines drawn upon it. Did he throw it away? He spread it out upon the table as smoothly as he could, and set to work to study out the problem presented to him. One thing was plain to him: the line which ran up the middle, paying no attention to other lines which came into it at intervals, was a gully. Right ahead it went until it branched off in two places, and there it stopped. What did it mean?

"It means something, as sure as I am a foot high," said Tom, settling back in his chair and holding the paper up before him. "There is something buried there, and how did these people come by it? I guess that Elam had better see that."

Filled with excitement, Tom bundled the things back into the bag, and put the bag into his pocket, wondering what sort of history those two men had passed through. Did they know anything about the nugget? The idea was ridiculous, simply because there were some marks on a paper which he did not understand.

"There was only one of them who escaped with the nugget, and he buried it within ten miles of the fort," said Tom. "And Elam says, further, that he was so sick and tired when he was relieved that he could not draw a map to lead anyone to it. No matter; there's something there, and I am in hopes it will——By George! they are coming back."

There was no doubt about it, and he might have heard them before if he had not been so busy with his reflections. He listened and could hear them tramping through the bushes, and all on a sudden one raised his voice and called out to the other, who was evidently behind him:

"I tell you he's got it. If I don't get it back, I am ruined!"

"That means me," thought Tom.

For an instant Tom stood irresolute, and then the idea came upon him that he wasn't going to be imposed upon in this way any longer. He moved across the floor with long strides, took down his revolver and put it into his pocket and moved out of the door, pulling it to after him. The men were close upon him. He heard them coming along the path as he slipped around the corner of the cabin and into the bushes.



CHAPTER XII.

TOM FINDS SOMETHING.

"Oh, Aleck, he is gone!" shouted the man who was the first to come within sight of the cabin. "The lock-string is out, and he's cut stick and gone, with that bag safe upon him; dog-gone the luck!"

"Push open the door," said Aleck. "Mebbe he is there."

The man placed the muzzle of his rifle against the door and thrust it so far open that his companion, who stood with cocked piece close at his side, would have had no difficulty in getting a shot at Tom if he had been on the inside. It was plain that they were afraid of the consequences, for as the door swung open they both drew back out of sight. If he knew anything of the prairie at all, it wasn't so certain that he was going to give up that bag after what he had seen of it.

"Hey, there!" shouted Aleck. "We know you have got it; you might as well come out and give up that thing I dropped in here a while ago. By gum, he haint in there!"

A little more peeping and looking (you will remember that the inside of the cabin was as dark as a pocket) resulted in the astounding discovery that there was nobody there. In fact, Tom lay about ten feet from them,—the bushes were so thick that he did not think it safe to retreat any farther,—and from his hiding-place he could distinctly hear everything that passed. He would have been glad to retreat farther, but the bushes made such a noise that he was afraid to try it.



"He's gone," said Aleck, hauling a stool out from the cabin and throwing himself upon it. "Now, what am I to do?"

"Perhaps you didn't drop it in there," said his companion. "You travelled a good ways——"

"Yes, I did," said Aleck, whose rage was fearful to behold. "I felt of it when I was coming through the bushes, and I am as certain as I want to be that I felt the bag, and nothing else."

"And do you suppose he found it and went to examine it?" said the other man, who hadn't done much of the talking. "If I thought that was the case—you have got us in a pretty box!"

"I don't suppose nothing else. And just think, it is in Elam's hands. Dog-gone the luck! I'd like to shoot myself."

"Aha!" thought Tom. "Now, go on and tell us what it is that's in Elam's hands. It's the nugget, and I'll bet my life on it."

"I never did have much faith in it, anyhow," said Aleck's companion, who, holding his rifle in the hollow of his arm, kicked a few chips out of his way; "but you seemed so eager for it that you had to go and shoot a man in order to get it. It's nothing more than I expected."

"I believe I can work my way up there alone," said Aleck.

"With all them gullies coming down? You're crazy. But you don't want to sit here a great while. Elam will have it; that feller's gone to find him——"

"If I thought Elam would have it, I'd lay around on purpose to shoot him," said Aleck, rising from his stool and kicking it out of his way. "He aint no more than anybody else, Elam aint."

"Well, if you are going to stay here, you can stay alone. I'll go back and take my bundle of skins to the fort, and raise some money on them. Then I'll light out, and you won't catch me around where Elam is again."

"By gum! I'll go, too," said Aleck. "But I'll bet you that Elam will sleep cold to-night."

"By George! he is going to burn the house," said Tom, drawing a long breath. "Well, I have done what I could, and as soon as they go away I'll go in and save what I can from the wreck."

The very first words that Aleck uttered after he had set fire to the cabin seemed to put a stop to this resolution. He made a great show of setting the shanty a-going, entering into it and kicking the burning brands about and piling stools and other things upon them, and when he came out and closed the door behind him, he was well satisfied with his work.

"There, dog-gone you!" sputtered Aleck, shouldering his rifle. "If you don't burn, I'll give up. Now, we'll just wait and see if some of 'em don't come back here to save things. You'll wait that long, won't you?"

"I won't, if you are going to raise a hand against Elam. I tell you it aint safe for anybody to touch him. You have had more pulls at him than anybody I know, and you have always said the same."

"And right here in these mountains, too," said Aleck. "I guess she will burn well enough without us, so we had better go on."

It may have been the fire that operated on Aleck's superstition in this way, for Tom listened and could hear them going headlong along the path. He did not think it quite safe to venture near the burning cabin until he had seen what had become of the robbers, so he left his rifle where it had fallen and, with his revolver for company, pursued the men toward the natural prairie. He did not feel the least fear of meeting the robbers in the evergreens, for his ears had informed him of their passage through them; so when he stopped behind one of the trees and took a survey of the ground before him, he was delighted to discover them far away, and going along as if all the demons in the woods were behind them. His next business was to go back and save what he could. The fire was already burning brightly, but, knowing where everything was, he succeeded in saving Elam's saddle and bridle, all the provisions, his clothing, and a few of the skins which served him for a bed. Then he sat down, drew his hands across his heated face, and waited as patiently as he could for the rest to burn up. As Elam had occupied the cabin for three or four winters, it burned like so much tinder. The principal thing that occupied his attention now was what he had heard the men say regarding Elam.

"Elam has been shot at three or four times right here in these mountains," soliloquized Tom. "He didn't say a word to me about that, and I reckon it was something he did not want to speak of. Now, I will leave the things right here and go and find Elam."

This would have been a task beyond him had he not seen the way Elam went the day before. He went up the prairie to gather in his traps, and of course all he had out must have been up that way, too. He didn't know anything about the theory of setting traps for wolves, but Elam understood it, and he was sure he was going the right way to find him. At any rate, he wouldn't go far out of sight of the smoke of the burning cabin, and with that resolution he cast his eye over the wreck to see if there was anything else that he could save, and struck into the path.

"I'll leave my revolver there where it is," said Tom. "There can't be more than one set of thieves around here at once. And I've got what has ruined that fellow. If I haven't got the secret of Elam's nugget here in my pocket, I'll give up. I'll go with you now, Elam. I'll face a dozen Red Ghosts for the sake of getting my hands on this pile of gold. It isn't a ghost, anyway. It is a camel, and I don't see how in the name of sense any of his tribe managed to get stranded out here. I'll shoot at it as quick as I did before."

Filled with such thoughts as these Tom reached the edge of the evergreens, but there was no sign of the robbers in sight. Elam's horse was there, and he seemed to think there was something wrong by sight and smell of the smoke, for he tossed his head and snorted, and when he saw Tom approaching took to his heels. Tom was glad of that, for Elam thought a good deal of that horse; he would come up at night, and Elam would go out to give him a piece of bread and speak friendly words to him. He had hardly left the horse behind before he saw Elam approaching. He had a few skins thrown over his shoulder, but he was going at a rapid rate, as if he knew there was something amiss. Discovering Tom, he threw off his skins, laid down his rifle, and seated himself on a rock to rest.

"Burned out?" said he cheerfully, when Tom came within speaking distance.

"Yes," said Tom. "How did you know it?"

"Oh, I saw it back there in the mountains. How did it catch?"

Tom had by this time come up. He seated himself beside Elam and drew the little bag from his pocket. He was in hopes that Elam would recognize the bag, but all he did was to look at it and wait for Tom to go on.

"I've had visitors since you left this morning," said Tom. "Two men with ragged and torn clothing came there and got into the cabin before I knew it, and when they got in, they made a haul of your two bundles of skins you had tied up."

"Hallo!" exclaimed Elam. "Seven hundred dollars gone to the bugs. Tell me how it happened."

To Tom's astonishment Elam did not seem at all surprised at the robbery, but when it came to the discovery of the bag and the description of the man who had lost it, Elam sprang to his feet with a wild war-whoop. Tom began to see that there was a good deal in Elam, but it wanted danger to bring it out.

"I know that fellow," said he, reseating himself after his paroxysm of rage had subsided.

"You ought to," responded Tom. "He has had three or four shots at you right here in the mountains."

"I know it, and that's my bag you have got there," replied Elam. "Go on and tell me the rest."

Tom was more astonished than Elam was to find that the bag belonged to him, and it was some little time before he could get his wits to work again; but when he did, he gave a full description of the burning of the cabin, and told of the direction the men had gone when they got through. Elam said they had gone to the fort, and the only way to head them off was to get there in advance of them. They intended to raise some money on those skins, and after that go to the mountains; but he was certain if he could see the commandant or the sutler he would knock their expedition into a cocked hat. He dropped these remarks as Tom went along, so that by the time he got through he knew pretty nearly what Elam was going to do. He was more surprised when he got through than Elam was.

"You seem to look upon this robbery as something that ought to have happened," said Tom. "I tell you that if I had worked as long as you have, and had seven hundred dollars' worth, I would be mad."

"Young man, if you had been out here as long as I have, and been in my circumstances, you would have learned to look upon these things as a matter of course," answered Elam. "This is the fourth time I have been robbed, and I never go to the mountains without expecting it."

"But you never told me about that man shooting at you so many times," answered Tom.

"Well, he did; and once he came so close to me that he laid me on the ground," said Elam, baring his brawny chest and showing Tom the ragged mark of a bullet there.

"By George!" exclaimed Tom.

"That was the time he stole that bag you have there," continued Elam. "He looked at me and thought me to be dead, and so made no bones about taking it. But he got fooled for once in his life. He thought I had a map there telling him where to look for the nugget."

"Did you have a map of any kind with you?"

"Nary a map," said Elam, with a laugh.

"Well, there's one here now, and I should like to have you look at it. The loss of that map made Aleck think he was ruined."

Elam became all attention now, and watched Tom as he took out the piece of buckskin and carefully unfolded it. Finally he took out the paper and handed it to Elam, taking pains to smooth it out as he did so.

"He said he had to shoot a man in order to get it," said Tom.

"What man was it?"

"I don't know. He didn't describe him."

Elam had been fooled so many times in regard to that nugget that he took the paper with a smile, but he had scarcely glanced at it before a look of intense earnestness took the place of the smile. He laid down his rifle, rested his hands upon his knees, and studied the paper long and earnestly.

"Do you make anything out of it?" asked Tom.

"It's the very thing I want," declared Elam. "I have waited and looked for a thing like this, and have never found it. The nugget is mine—mine, and, Tom, I will give you half if you will stand by me till I handle it."

"It's a bargain," replied Tom, and to show how very much in earnest he was he offered to shake hands with Elam; but he resolved that he would never do it again. All the years of waiting Elam had infused into that grip; Tom didn't say anything, but it was all he could do to stand it.

"There is only one thing I can't see into," said he, when he had recovered his power of speech, "and that is where that line begins. You don't know where in the world it is."

"Do you see all these little dots here at the beginning of the line? Well, those are springs. There's a dozen springs break out inside of half an acre, and there's only one place in the country where you can find them."

"How far is it from here?"

"It is forty miles in a straight line."

"Then what were those men doing here?"

"I give it up."

"And here's some money, too, with the thing," said Tom, undoing the piece of buckskin that contained it. "There's forty dollars here."

"I am sure I don't know what brought them in here, unless they came after somebody that had the map. I'd like mighty well to find him, but I can't stop now to hunt him up. I must have the nugget in the first place."

"Well, you had better keep this map," said Tom, as Elam got up and threw the skins over his shoulder and picked up his rifle.

"No, you keep it until I come back. I've got to face a couple of rough men, and there's no knowing what may happen to me. If I shouldn't come back, find Uncle Ezra Norton and give it to him. He will go with you and help you hunt it up."

"What have you got to face those rough men for?" said Tom anxiously. "Those men who were here were afraid of their lives."

"Yes; but you take them out in the mountains and see if they are afraid of their lives. They would shoot you as quickly as they would look at you. One of them has more to answer for than he will care to. Uncle Ezra Norton. Don't forget him. Now, I am going to leave you here while I go on to the fort. I shall be gone three days. You can stand it that long, can't you?"

"I can stand it for a week if you will keep those fellows from trading off those wolf-skins for provisions," said Tom. "I hope you'll catch them right there among our soldiers, and make them give up the skins. They've got a heap of cheek to take those skins to the fort."

"The people out here have cheek enough for anything," said Elam, with a frown. "This Aleck you speak of took some money off that dead man, and yet I'll bet you he would go right to the fort and spend it."

Elam became all activity, and it was all Tom could do to keep pace with him as he walked along carrying the skins to the site of the cabin. It was a "site," sure enough, for the fire had made rapid headway, and now there was nothing but the smouldering remains to be seen. Elam looked at the smoking ruins and then at the numerous articles Tom had saved, and then said:

"If I had known as much on the day I built this cabin as I do now, I could have enjoyed myself better here than the ones who burned it. You have saved your boots, haven't you? Well, the things that went up are comparatively of little value. Now, if you will punch together some of the coals and get me a big dinner, I'll be off. There's a blizzard coming up, and as they generally come from the south-west, I would advise you to put up a lean-to with its back that way," said Elam, motioning with his hand.

"I would really enjoy a blizzard, but not if you are going to be out in it," replied Tom, who, for some reason or other, could not bear that anything should happen to Elam. "I have never seen one in my life."

For an hour or two the boys were busy, Elam in catching and saddling his horse and doing up his blankets to be carried with him, and Tom employed with his cooking, and all the while the former was going on with some instructions which were destined to make things easier for Tom. He didn't want to neglect that lean-to, he said, for in less than three days there would be a blizzard that would make him open his eyes. If he didn't come back in three days, all Tom would have to do would be to take that map to Uncle Ezra Norton (anybody at the fort would show him where he lived), and he would know what to do under the circumstances. Having said this much, Elam wrapped what was left of his dinner in his blankets, so as to carry it with him, shook Tom warmly by the hand (he did not put as much vim into it as he did before), mounted his horse, and rode down the path out of sight. When he thought a sufficient length of time had passed, Tom wandered down to the edge of the evergreens and looked out. There was Elam on his horse, skurrying along; not going fast, for he had nearly a hundred miles to ride, but taking it easy, as though he could stand it. Elam didn't know it, but he was to travel twenty miles at as fast a gait as he had ever ridden it before.

"There goes my luck again," said Tom, as he turned about and returned through the evergreens. "If anything should happen to him, I don't know what I should do. I feel drawn toward the fellow. I will pay attention to what he told me, and in order to put it out of the power of those men to carry off this map and money I will just chuck the bag in here, where I know it is safe."

The place where Tom hid the bag was in a hollow tree. He pushed it in, put some leaves and brush over it, and turned away, satisfied, to begin work on his lean-to. He could not see any signs of the approaching blizzard, but Elam could, and he worked hard. That day he had the frame up, and the next day it was all done and the things carried under it.

"There," said Tom, with a smile of satisfaction. "We are all ready for what comes. Now, if Elam was only here, I'd be content. One more day, or at least I will give him two, and then he will have to show up."

The third day passed without bringing any signs of the missing boy, but Tom paid little attention to it. On the fourth he began making trips to the edge of the evergreens, and then he saw that the sun was hazy and that it began to look stormy. It grew worse on the fifth day, and Tom really began to be alarmed. Toward evening a horseman suddenly made his appearance on the edge of the prairie, walking slowly along, as if his nag was tired almost to death. But it was Elam, for after he had made many steps he discovered Tom, and pulled off his hat and waved it to him.

"Something has gone wrong," muttered Tom, vigorously returning the salute. "Why don't he whip up? If I was as close to home as he is, I would go faster than that."

Tom waited in the margin of the woods for him to come up, and when he drew nearer saw that his face was pale, and that he carried his arm in a sling, as if he had been wounded. When Tom saw that, he began to grow pale, too.

"Oh, it's all over," said Elam. "Look there."

"What! Is your horse wounded, too?"

"Yes, and was hardly able to move when I rode him into the fort. Say, you told me that soldiers always wanted to see the fair thing done, didn't you? They're a mean set. But I got the start of them. Do you know what became of those two men who were here? Well, the Cheyennes have got them."

"The Cheyennes!" exclaimed Tom.

Elam looked at him and nodded, and got off his horse with difficulty. Tom looked at the long ragged streak in his neck, and did not wonder that he was glad to be rid of his rider.



CHAPTER XIII.

ELAM INTERVIEWS THE MAJOR.

When Elam mounted his horse and set out for the fort that morning, it was with the secret determination to confront Aleck and his companion, or, failing in that, he would push on ahead, and by seeing the colonel or the sutler he would render their attempts at disposing of the furs of no account. He had already borne enough from one of these men to put him pretty well out of patience. Although Elam said nothing about it, Aleck had been at the bottom of three desperate attempts upon his life, as well as of four efforts that had been made to rob him, and Elam thought he couldn't stand it any longer. He rode along just outside of the willows that skirted the foot-hills, so that he could not be picked off by a stray rifle shot, and keeping a close watch of the prairie on all sides of him, and when night came he hadn't seen anything of the robbers. When darkness fell, he allowed his horse to browse around him while he ate some of the lunch that was wrapped up in his blanket, and then put out again. He was satisfied that by this time he had got beyond the men, and now he wanted to get to the fort and put the people there on their guard. Was Elam flustered while he was doing all this? Not a bit of it. He went about his work as he would have tried to compass the death of some wild animal that had escaped him. When the first gray streaks of dawn were seen in the east, he camped in a sheep-herder's dugout, but it was empty. Beyond a doubt the men had gone into the mountains to escape the blizzards. There was a small stack of hay behind the cabin, and to this Elam staked out his horse, and went in and tumbled into an empty bunk. He was within twenty miles of the fort.

Elam slept the sleep of the weary, and when he was aroused to consciousness, it was by a note of warning from his horse. Elam was wide awake in an instant. He caught up his rifle and hurried to the door of the cabin, and the summit of the hills over which he had come the night before was crowded with horsemen. They were so far off that he could not distinguish anything, but he knew by certain signs they exhibited that they were not the men he wanted to see. They were too much scattered.

"I believe those are the Cheyennes," said he, lost in wonder. "I never heard of their breaking loose before."

As if in corroboration of his words, a single long-drawn yell arose on the air, followed by a chorus that must have been deafening to those that were close at hand. That was enough for Elam. With muttered ejaculations addressed to the men who were supposed to be near enough to the Indians to keep watch of their movements, he rushed to his horse, severed the lariat with which he was confined, mounted without saddle or bridle, and was off like the wind.

"I tell you now I am whipped," said Elam, gazing back at his line of foes, and trying to estimate how many warriors there were in the lot. "It's the Cheyennes, and they belong two hundred miles from here. Some ruffian has stolen their back pay, and they are going to have revenge for it. Keep close, there, or I'll down some of you."

Then followed a chase such as we don't read of in these days. It was long and untiring, and all the way Elam looked in vain for assistance. His first care was to make out that there were no Cheyennes in advance of him, and he concluded that their discovery of him was as much of a surprise to them as it was to him; otherwise they would have sent some warriors out to surround him. That was all that saved him. He was mounted on a mustang, and such an one could not be tired out in a twenty-mile race. He seemed to hate the Indians as bad as his master did, and put in his best licks from the time he started, but that wouldn't do at all. Some of the cool heads behind him were holding in their horses, calculating that when the race was nearly finished they would come up and settle the matter. Other warriors, carried away by their military ardor, or perhaps having some private wrongs to avenge, easily outstripped the others, and finally Elam had his attention drawn to two who seemed bent on coming up with him. He couldn't hold his horse well in hand with nothing but a noose around his neck, but by talking to him he finally got him settled down to good solid work.



For one hour the chase continued, and then the whitewashed stockade of the fort came into view. He could see that there was a commotion in it, for the soldiers were running about in obedience to some orders, but nearer than all came the two warriors, who seemed determined to run him down and take his scalp within reach of the fort. At last they thought they were near enough to fire. One of them drew up his rifle, and Elam threw himself flat upon his horse's neck. The rifle cracked, and in an instant afterward his horse bounded into the air and came to his knees. But he didn't carry Elam with him. The moment he felt his horse going he bounded to his feet, struck the ground on the opposite side, and when the animal staggered to his feet, as he did a second later, he stood perfectly still and Elam's deadly rifle was covering the savage's head. He dropped, but he was too late. The ball from the rifle which never missed sped on its way, and the warrior threw up his hands and measured his length on the ground. An instant afterward Elam was mounted on his horse again and going toward the fort as fast as ever. At this feat loud yells came from the Indians. The death of the warrior and Elam's fair chance for escape filled them with rage. The nearest savage fired, and this time the bullet found a mark in Elam's body. It struck him near the wrist and came out of his hand, but Elam never winced. He changed his rifle into his other hand and broke out into a loud yell, for he saw a squadron of cavalry come pouring from the fort. The chase was over after that. Elam galloped into the fort, swinging his rifle as he went, and got off just as his horse came to his knees again.

Of course all was excitement in there. The balance of the soldiers, which consisted of a small regiment of infantry, were drawn up outside the fort ready to help the cavalry in case the Indians dodged them, the teamsters climbing upon the stockade ready to use their rifles, and Elam was left to take his horse out of the way and examine his injuries and his own. For himself he decided that it was no matter. He could open and shut his hand, although it bled profusely, and that proved that the bullet had not touched a cord; but his horse—that was a different matter. The ball had not gone in, but had cut its way around the neck, leaving a mark as broad as his finger. He must have a bucket of water at once. While he was looking around for it, he ran against an officer who had been busy stationing the men in their proper places.

"Hallo! You're wounded, aint you?" said he, taking Elam's hand. "Come with me."

"I've got a horse here that's worse off than I am," said Elam. "I'd like to see him fixed in the first place, and then I'll go with you."

"A horse! Well, he belongs to the veterinary surgeon. You come with me."

But Elam insisted that he could not go with the officer until his horse had been taken care of, and asked for a bucket of water; and the officer, seeing that he was determined, hastened out to find the surgeon who had charge of the stock. He presently discovered him, standing on the stockade and yelling until he was red in the face over a charge that the cavalry had made, but he ceased his demonstrations and jumped down when he was told that an officer wanted him.

"Give me one cavalryman against ten Indians," said he, saluting the officer. "The savages are gone, sir."

"Did they stand?" asked the officer.

"No, sir. It was every man for himself, sir. A horse, sir? Yes, sir. I saw this fellow come down on his knees when those Indians fired at him. A pretty bad cut, sir."

Elam, having seen his horse provided for, resigned himself to the officer's care, and went with him to the office of the surgeon. The latter had got out all his tools and seemed to be waiting for any wounded that might be brought in, but Elam was the first to claim his attention. The surgeon jumped up briskly, examined Elam's hand, made some remark about the bullet not having touched a bone, said that all the patient would have to do would be to take good care of it for a few days, and by the time he got through talking he had it done up. The officer had left by this time, and Elam began to feel quite at his ease in the surgeon's presence. In answer to his enquiries he went on to explain how he had been surprised in a sheep-herder's cabin, when he didn't know that there was a Cheyenne within a hundred miles of him, and had depended entirely on the speed of his horse to save him, and asked, with some show of hesitation, which he had not exhibited before:

"Do you reckon I could have a word with the major this fine morning? I suppose he is pretty busy now."

To tell the truth, Elam stood more in fear of a stranger than he did of a grizzly bear, and he felt awed and abashed when he found himself in the soldier's presence. The regular, with his snow-white belts, bright buttons, and neatly fitting clothes, presented a great contrast to the visitor in his well-worn suit of buckskin, and, backwoodsman as he was, Elam noticed the difference and felt it keenly. Now, when the excitement was all over, he felt sadly out of place there, and he wished that he had let the wolf-skins go and stayed at home with Tom. But the surgeon's first words reassured him.

"Of course the major will see you," said he cheerfully. "He will want to see you the minute he comes back. He has gone out after the hostiles now. You can sit here till he comes back."

"I have got a horse out here that is badly hurt, and if you don't object, I'll go out and look at him," said Elam.

"Eh? Objections? Certainly not," said the surgeon, in surprise. "I hope you will get along as nicely as he will. Only be careful of that hand of yours."

Elam had never been to the fort before, and he felt like a cat in a strange garret while he loitered about looking at things. He first went to see his horse, and found that, under the skilful hands of the veterinary surgeon, he had fared as well as he did, for his neck was bound up, and he was engaged in munching some hay that had been provided for him. Then he went out of the stockade to see how the hostiles were getting on, but found that they and the cavalrymen had long ago disappeared. An occasional report of a carabine, followed by an answering yell, came faintly to his ears, thus proving beyond a doubt that the savages had "scattered," thus making it a matter of impossibility to hunt them. After that Elam came back and loafed around the stockade to see what he could find that was worth looking at. The doors of the officers' apartments were wide open, and, although they were very plainly furnished, Elam looked upon it as a scene of enchantment. He had never seen anything like it before. He had heard of carpets, sofas, and pictures, but he had never dreamed that they were such beautiful things as he now saw before him.

"I tell you, I wish I was a soldier," whispered Elam, going from one room to the other, and stopping every time he saw anything to attract his attention. "This is a heap better than I've got at home. Uncle Ezra Norton is rich, but he hasn't got anything to compare with this. Wait until I get my nugget, and I will have something to go by. I do wish the major would hurry up."

But Elam had a long time to wait before he could see the major, for the latter did not return until nearly nightfall. When they came, they looked more like whipped soldiers than victorious ones. They had two dead men with them, three that had been wounded, and half a dozen Indians that they had taken prisoners. Elam looked for an execution at once, but what was his surprise to see the Indians thrust into the guard-house.

"When are they going to shoot those fellows?" whispered Elam to a soldier who happened to be near him.

"Shoot whom?" asked the soldier.

"Why, those Indians. They aint a-going to let them shoot white folks and have nothing done to them?"

"Oh, yes, they will," said the soldier, with a laugh. "They can shoot all they please, and we'll take 'em prisoners and let 'em go. Did you think they was going to kill 'em right at once?"

Elam confessed that he did.

"Well, no doubt that would be the proper way to deal with them. Dog-gone 'em! if I had any dealings with 'em, I'd 'a' left 'em out there."

Elam did not remain long before he saw the major, for an orderly approached in full uniform, and saluted him as he would a lieutenant-general, and told him that the commandant was at leisure now, and would see him. Elam's heart was in his mouth. He did not know what to say to the major about his furs, and so he concluded he would let the matter go until morning.

"Say," said Elam, "he must be tired now, and you just tell him I'll wait until he has had a chance to sleep on it."

"Why, you must see him," said the orderly, who was rather surprised at this civilian's way of putting off the major. "What good can he do by sleeping on it? Come on."

Elam reluctantly fell in behind the orderly, and allowed himself to be conducted into the presence of the major. The table was all set, the officers were seated at it, and seemed ready to begin work upon it. He was surprised at the actions of the major, a tall, soldierly looking man, with gray hair and whiskers, who sat at the head of the table, and who arose and advanced with outstretched palm to meet him.

"I am overjoyed to see you," said he, holding fast to the boy's hand after shaking it cordially. "You got hurt, didn't you? But I see you have been well taken care of. Is the news you bring me good or bad?"

Elam was too bewildered to speak. He looked closely at the major, trying hard to remember when and under what circumstances he had seen him before, for that this was not their first meeting was evident. If they had been strangers, the major would not have greeted him in so cordial and friendly a manner. This was what Elam told himself, but he had shot wide of the mark.

In order to explain the major's conduct it will be necessary to say that these discontented Cheyennes had not broken away from the neighborhood of this fort, but had come from a point at least a hundred miles away. It was the source of great uneasiness and anxiety to the veteran major, who was afraid that his superiors might charge him with being remiss in his duty. He had sent three detachments of cavalry in pursuit, but only one of them had been heard from, and the news concerning it, which had been brought in by a friendly Indian, was most discouraging. The savages had eluded his pursuing columns in a way that was perfectly bewildering, and the fear that they might surprise and annihilate his men troubled the major to such a degree that he could neither eat nor sleep. He was glad to see anybody who could give him any information regarding the soldiers or the runaways, and he took it for granted that, as Elam had come in since the Indians broke away, and had had a running fight with them, he must know all about them.

"Where do you reckon you saw me before?" asked Elam.

"I never met you before in my life," answered the major, who saw that his visitor did not understand the feelings which prompted him to extend so hearty a greeting. "You can tell me about the Cheyennes, and that is why I am so glad to welcome you."

"Oh!" said Elam, quite disappointed.

"Talk fast, for I am all impatience," exclaimed the major. "When did you see the hostiles last, and where were they? I know that you brought them up here to the fort, but where did you meet them in the first place?"

"I found them back here about twenty miles in a sheep-herder's cabin where I stopped for the night," said Elam. "The first thing I heard of them was a note of warning from my horse, and when I got up, there they were."

"Well?" said the major.

"Well, I got on to my horse and lit out. That's the way I brought them up here."

"And that's all you know about them?"

"Yes, everything. I didn't know the Cheyennes had broken out before."

The major released the boy's hand and walked back to his seat at the table. The expression on his face showed that he was disappointed.

"That aint all I have to tell, major," said Elam quickly. "When I got back to my shanty after taking in my traps, I found that two men had been there stealing my spelter that I have worked hard for."

The major, who probably knew what was coming next, turned away his head and waved his hand up and down in the air to indicate that he did not care to hear any more of the story; but Elam, having an object to accomplish, went on with dogged perseverance:

"Now, major, those two fellows are coming to this fort, calculating to sell them furs,—my furs, mind you,—and I came here to ask you not to let them do it."

"I can't interfere in any private quarrels," said the officer. "I have something else to think of."

"But, major, it is mine and not theirs," persisted Elam.

"I don't care whose it is," was the impatient reply. "I shan't have anything to do with it."

"Won't you keep them from selling it?"

"No, I won't. I shan't bother my head about it. I have enough on my mind already, and I can't neglect important government matters for the sake of attending to private affairs. Did you say those men were afoot when they came to your shanty? Probably the Cheyennes have got them before this time. Orderly!"

The door opened, and when the soldier who had shown Elam into the room made his appearance, the major commanded him to show the visitor out.

"Now, just one word, major——" began Elam.

"Show him out!" repeated the commandant.

The orderly laid hold of the young hunter's arm and tried to pull him toward the door, but couldn't budge him an inch. Elam stood as firmly as one of the pickets that composed the stockade.

"Just one word, major, and then I'll leave off and quit a-pestering you," he exclaimed. "If you won't make them two fellows give back the plunder they have stolen from me, you won't raise any row if I go to work and get it back in my own way, will you?"

"No, I don't care how you get it, or whether you get it at all or not," the major almost shouted.

"Oh, I'll get it, you can bet your bottom dollar on it. And if you hear of somebody getting hurt while I am getting of it, you mustn't blame me."

"Put him out!" roared the major.

The orderly laid hold of Elam's arm with both hands and finally succeeded in forcing him into the hall and closing the door after him, but the closing of the door did not shut out the sound of his voice. Elam had set out to relieve his mind, and he did it; and as there was no one else to talk to, he addressed his remarks to the orderly.

"The major needn't blame me if some of them fellows gets hurt," said he. "I tried to set the law to going and couldn't do it. I'll never ask a soldier to do anything for me again. I can take care of myself. I don't see what you fellows come out here for anyway, except it is to wear out good clothes and keep grub from spoiling. That's all the use you be."

"Well, go on now, and don't bother any more," said the orderly good-naturedly. "The old man said he didn't care how you got the things back, and what more do you want?"

"I wanted him to set the law a-going, but he won't do it," said Elam. "I'll just set it to going myself."

The young hunter walked off and directed his course toward the sutler's store. He knew it was the sutler's store, for when he was loitering about the fort he had seen the sutler come in from the stockade with a rifle in his hands, and sell a plug of tobacco to one of the teamsters. He found the store empty and the sutler leaning against the counter with his arms folded. The latter recognized Elam at once, for he had seen him come in on that wounded horse.

"Halloa," he exclaimed. "You have got your wound fixed all right. Did you have a long race with them?"

Elam in a few words described his adventures, running his eye over the goods the sutler had to sell, and wound up by telling of the furs he had lost.

"I have got a good many skins," said he, "and I see some things here that I should like to have, but I aint got them now."

"How is that? I don't understand you."

"Well, you see, I have done right smart of trapping and shooting since I have been out, but while I was gathering up my traps some fellows came to my shanty and stole everything I had," said Elam.

"That's bad," said the sutler; and he really thought it was, for no doubt he had lost an opportunity to make some good bargains.

"Yes, and they are coming to this post now, those two fellows are, to sell those furs," continued Elam earnestly.

"Ah!" exclaimed the sutler, in a very different tone of voice.

If that was the case, perhaps he could make something out of the boy's work after all.



CHAPTER XIV.

ELAM UNDER FIRE.

"Yes, that's bad business," the sutler continued. "They steal furs and pass them off as their own. I couldn't do that."

"But this is the fourth time they have robbed me," Elam went on. "You have handled skins that they took from me last winter. They'll try to sell them at this store, most likely. There aint no traders here, are they? I aint seen any of them hanging around."

"No; they have been scarce of late," answered the sutler, who would have been glad to know that none of the fraternity would ever show their faces in that country again. He wanted to do all the trading that was done at that post himself.

"Then they will be sure to sell them to you, if they sell them to anybody; but I don't want you to buy them," said Elam. "They belong to me, and I've worked hard for them."

The sutler leaned his elbows on the counter, placed his chin on his hands, and looked out at the door, whistling softly to himself. Elam waited for him to say something, but as he did not, the boy continued:

"I don't want you to buy them skins. You heard what I said to you, I reckon?"

"Oh, yes, I heard you," said the sutler, straightening up and jingling a bunch of keys in his pocket; "but I don't see how I can help you. When hunters come here with furs to sell, I never ask where they got them, for it is none of my business. Besides, I don't know these men who you say robbed you."

"I will be here to point them out to you," said Elam quickly. "I would know them anywhere."

"But I couldn't take your unsupported word against the word of two men," continued the sutler. "If they told me that the property belonged to them, I should have to believe them."

"But I will be here," said Elam indignantly.

"Well, you must get somebody to prove that the skins are yours."

Elam looked down at the counter, turning these words over in his mind, and when he had grasped their full import, it became clear to him that he had no one to depend on but himself. It became evident to him that the arm of the law was not extensive enough to reach from the States away out there to the fort, and, as the sutler would not lend him assistance, he must either take the matter into his own hands or stand idly by and see the proceeds of his work go into the pockets of rascals. That he resolved he would never do. The very thought enraged him.

"Look a-here, Mr.—Mr. Bluenose," said Elam—Elam did not know the sutler's name, and this cognomen was suggested to him by the most prominent feature on the man's face, which was a dark purple, telling of frequent visits to a private demijohn he kept in the back room—"you shan't never make a cent out of that plunder of mine, because it will not come into this fort!"

"Don't get excited," said the sutler.

"I aint. I'm only just a-telling of you."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, the major wouldn't make them two fellows give back my furs, and so I asked him if he would raise a furse in case I got them back in my own way, and he said he wouldn't," said Elam. "That's all I've got to say."

"I'll tell you what's the matter," said the sutler, a bright idea striking him; "the Cheyennes have got them. Were they afoot?"

"Yes, they were. I don't know whether they tried to steal my horse or not, but anyway they didn't get him."

"Then the Cheyennes have got them beyond a doubt. They could never travel through the country you came through."

"Then what's become of my furs? Do you reckon the savages have got them, too?"

"I certainly do. I'll tell you what I could do: If the Cheyennes came here to sell their furs, I could easily tell your furs from their own, and I could throw them out. But, you see, the Indians don't come here. They take all their furs to Fort Mitchell."

"Maybe you would throw them out and maybe you wouldn't," said Elam emphatically. "I guess I had better take the matter into my own hands. When I get my grip on to them furs, you'll know it."

The sutler merely nodded and gazed after Elam, who marched out as if he intended to do something.

"That boy is going to be killed," said he to himself. "He thinks more of those furs than he does of so much gold. If I was commander of this fort, I wouldn't let him go out."

Elam directed his course toward the barn in which he had left his horse and rifle when he went in to visit the surgeon. He found them there yet, and it was but the work of a moment to shoulder the one and unhitch the other, who greeted him with a whinny of recognition, and lead him out to the gate. As he expected, there was a sentry there, and he stepped in front of him with his musket at "arms port."

"You can't go out," said he.

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Elam innocently.

"Too many Indians," was the reply.

"Oh, well, I just want to let my horse have some grass. He don't think much of the hay you have here."

"You don't want your rifle if you're just going out to get grass," said the soldier, with a smile.

"No, but I like to have it handy when the pinch comes. If I hadn't had it and been able to use it, you wouldn't have seen me here now."

"That's so," said the sentry. "I don't suppose you care enough about them as to go among them again. But we'll have to see the corporal about that." Then, raising his voice, he called out:

"Corporal of the guard No. 1!"

In process of time the officer of the guard came up, and the sentry made known Elam's request in a few words. He looked at Elam and said:

"Oh, let him go. It aint likely that he will go far away with the Indians all around him. You don't want to get too far away," he added, turning to the young hunter, "because the men on post have orders to fire on people that are going out of range."

"Do you see this rifle?" said Elam. "Well, when they come, I will let you know. You will never see me inside that fort again," said Elam to himself, as the sentry brought his musket to his shoulder and stepped out of the way, leaving the road clear for him. "I am going to get my furs the first thing, and then I am going down to trade them off to Uncle Ezra for a grub-stake for three months. That's what I'll do, and I bet you that those two fellows will get hurt."

Elam passed through the gate, and the horse began to crop the grass as he went out, thus doing what he could to prove that it was grass he wanted, and not the hay that was served up to him in the stable. Being continually urged by his master, he kept getting further and further away from the stockade. The sentries on guard looked at him, but supposing that, as he had got by post No. 1, he was all right, although one sentinel did shake his head and warn him that he was going further off than the law allowed; so Elam turned and went back.

"I don't like the looks of that fellow, for he handles his gun as though he might shoot tolerable straight," said Elam. "We will go more in this direction, for here's where the stock was when the Indians came up. We'll be a little cautious at first, but we are bound to get away in the end."

By keeping his horse on the opposite side from him, and paying no attention to the warning gestures of the sentries, he succeeded in reaching a point beyond which he was certain that the guards could not hit him, and, with a word and a jump, he landed fairly on his nag's back.

"Now, old fellow, show them what you can do," he whispered, digging his heels into his horse's sides.

He looked back and saw that the sentry he feared most was already levelling his gun, and a moment later the bullet ploughed up the grass a little beyond him. Had he remained fairly in his seat, it would have taken him out of it; but he did just as he had seen the Cheyennes do—he threw himself on the side of his horse opposite the marksman, and so he had nothing to shoot at save the swiftly running steed. Another musket popped, and still another, but Elam did not hear the whistle of their bullets. That was all the guards on that side of the stockade, and Elam knew he was safe. Before they could load again he would be far out of range. He raised himself to a sitting posture, took off his hat and waved it at the guards, and then settled down and kept on his way, taking care, however, to watch against all chances of pursuit. The fact was that his escape had been reported to the major, who, out of all patience, exclaimed: "Let him go!"

Elam was now a free man once more, and he resolved that it would be a long time before he would again trust himself in the power of the soldiers. His first care must be to go back to the sheep-herder's cabin in which he had camped the night before he reached the fort, and get his saddle and bridle, for he rightly concluded that the savages had been so anxious to capture him that they had not time to go in and see if he had left anything behind him. It required considerable nerve to do this, but Elam had already shown that he had a good share of it. He had not gone many miles on his way until he began to meet some sheep-herders and cattle-men who were fleeing from their homes and going to the fort for protection. The men were generally riding on ahead, and the women came after them in wagons drawn by mules. He waved his hat whenever he came within sight, for fear that the men might shoot at him, and he knew by experience that they could handle their rifles with greater skill than the soldiers could handle their muskets.

"Where you going?" demanded one of the men, as he galloped up to meet Elam. "Seen any Indians around here?"

"There were plenty of them here this morning," said Elam. "Did they come near you?"

"Well, I should say so. They've jumped down on us when we wasn't looking for them, and I've got one brother in the wagon that's been laid out. You must have been in a rucus with them, judging by the looks of your hand and the horse."

"Yes, I got into a fight with them right along here somewhere, and I didn't go to the fort without sending one of them up. There was no need of my going there at all, but I went to shut off some trade that wasn't exactly square. There are no Indians between here and the fort."

"Well, I wish you would ride by the wagon and tell that to my old woman, will you? She is scared half to death. Where are you going?"

Elam replied that he was going to the sheep-herder's ranch to get a saddle and bridle that he had left there, and after that he was going back to the mountains. He had a partner there, and he didn't know whether he was alive or dead. He had had enough of depending on the soldiers for help, for they had declined to assist him, and, furthermore, had shot at him when he attempted to leave the fort.

"Well, I say!" exclaimed the frontiersman, giving Elam a good looking over, "you are a brave lad, and I know you will come out all right."

Elam carried the news to the wagon that there were no Indians between them and the fort, and afterward continued on his lonely way to the sheep-herder's ranch. He came within sight of it about eleven o'clock that night, and, dismounting from his horse and leaving him on the open prairie, he proceeded to stalk it as he would an antelope, being careful that not a glimpse of him should be seen. It was a bright moonlight night, and for that reason he was doubly careful. There was something more than the saddle and bridle he wanted, and that was his blankets. There was some of the lunch left in there. He had eaten but one meal that day, and he had nearly a hundred miles to go before he could get any more.

Elam was nearly an hour in coming up to that ranch, and he was sure that anyone who might be on the lookout would have been deceived for once in his life. He crawled all around the hay-racks without seeing anybody, and finally went in at the open door without seeing or hearing anybody. He found all the articles of which he was in search—the saddle tucked away in one corner of a bunk to serve as a pillow, the blankets spread over them, and the bridle and lunch placed on a box near the head of the bed, and, quickly shouldering them, he made his way out of the cabin in the direction in which he had left his horse.

"Now," said Elam, as he strapped the saddle on the animal's back and slipped the bridle into his mouth, "the next thing is something else, and it's going to be far more dangerous than this. I am going to have those furs. I need them more than they do. I have got the map of the hiding-place of that nugget at my shanty, and some of them are going to get hurt if I don't get it."

Elam kept out a portion of his lunch (the rest was strapped up in the blankets, which were stowed away behind the saddle), eating it as he galloped along, and this time he directed his course toward the willows that lined the base of the foot-hills. At daylight he discovered something—the track of an unshod pony. He looked all around, but there was no one in sight. He dismounted and saw that the horse had been going at full jump, and as there was dew on the ground, the tracks must have been made before it fell. A little further on he found another, and by comparing the two he made up his mind that they must have been made the day before. They were going the same way that he was, and appeared to be holding the direction of a long line of willows a few miles off. Elam's hair seemed to rise on end. He could imagine how those painted warriors had yelled and plied their whips in the endeavor to hunt down their victims; for that they were in plain view of someone Elam could readily affirm. He thought he could hear the yells, "Hi yah! yip, yip, yip!" which the exultant savages sent up as a forerunner of what was coming.

"They got them in there as sure as the world," muttered Elam. "It's all right so far, and I can go on without running the risk of seeing any of them. I just know I shall see something after I get up there."

Elam put his horse into a lope and followed along after the trail as boldly as though he had a right to be there. He didn't feel any fear, for he knew that he was on the trail of the Indians instead of having them upon his, and he knew they would not be likely to come back without the prospect of some gain. Presently he came to the place where some of the savages had dismounted and gone into the willows to fight their victims on foot, and then something told him that if he got in there he would find the bodies of the men who had robbed him of his furs. How that little piece of woods must have rung to the savages' war-whoops! But all was silent now. He led his horse a short distance into the bushes and dismounted, following the trail of an Indian who had crept up on all fours toward the place where the doomed men were concealed, and presently came into a valley in which the undergrowth had been trampled in every direction. Near the middle of the valley were two men who were stretched out on the ground, dead. There was nothing on them to indicate who they were, but Elam had no difficulty in recognizing them.

"Well, it is better so," said he sorrowfully. "The Indians have got you, and that's all there is of it. Now my furs have gone, and I shall have to go to Uncle Ezra's to get a grub-stake."

There were no signs of mutilation about them, as there would have been if the men had fallen into the hands of the Indians when alive. The Cheyennes had evidently been in a hurry, for all they had done was to see that the men were dead, after which they had stripped them of their clothes, stolen their guns and ammunition and furs, and gone off to hunt new booty. In this case it promised to be Elam, who made a desperate fight of it. The young hunter resolved that he would go into camp, and he did, too, hitching his horse near the stream that ran through the valley, just out of sight of the massacred men. He saw no ghosts, but slept as placidly as if the field on which the savages had vented their spite was a hundred miles away.

When he awoke, it was dark, and the peaceful moon was shining down upon him through the tree-tops. He watered his horse, ate what was left of the lunch, and began to work his way out of the valley, when he discovered that both his nag and himself were sore from the effects of their long run. He had gone a long distance out of his way to see what the Cheyennes had done, and he didn't feel like bracing up to face the eighty miles before him. His horse didn't feel like it either, for when he stopped and allowed him to have his own way, he hung his head down and went to sleep. The horse seemed to be rendered uneasy by the bandage he wore round his neck, and when it was taken off he was more at his ease.

It took Elam two days to make the journey to the camp where he had left Tom Mason, for he did all of his travelling during the daytime, and stopped over at some convenient place for the night. He was getting hungry, but his horse was growing stronger everyday. He dared not shoot at any of the numerous specimens of the jack-rabbit which constantly dodged across his path, for fear that he would betray himself to some marauding band of Indians, and not until he got within sight of Tom Mason standing in the edge of the willows did he feel comparatively safe. Tom gazed in astonishment while he told his story, and it was a long time before he could get dinner enough to satisfy him.

"Thank goodness they have left you all right," said Elam, settling back on his blanket with a hunk of corn bread and bacon in his uninjured hand and a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. "Do you know that I have worried about you more than I have about myself?"

"Well, how did those Indians look when they were following you?" asked Tom, who had not yet recovered himself. His hand trembled when he poured out the coffee so that one would think that he was the one who had had a narrow escape from the savages. "Did they yell?"

"Yell? Of course it came faintly to my ears because they were so far away, but if I had been close to them, I tell you I wouldn't have had any courage left," said Elam, with a laugh. "I've got my saddle and bridle, and that's something I did not expect to get."

"Was there no one in the sheep-herder's ranch to look for you?"

"If there had been, I wouldn't 'a' been here. There was nobody there at all. I just went in and got my saddle, and that's all there was to it. You see, I was on their trail, and they had passed over that ground once and thought they had got everybody."

"Well, I am beaten. I never heard a whisper of an Indian since you went away. It is lucky for me that they didn't know I was here. How did those men look that were killed?"

"They were dead, of course. There was no mutilation about them, only just enough to show who killed them. If the Indians had got hold of them before they were dead, then you might have expected something. They would have just thrown themselves to show how much agony they could put them to. I never want to fall into the hands of the Indians alive. Do you know that the soldiers always carry a derringer in their pockets? Yes, they do, and that last shot is intended for themselves."

"By George!" said Tom, drawing a long breath. "Let us get out of here."

"Where will we go?"

"Let's go back to the States. I never was made to live out here."

"Hi yah! I couldn't make a living there."

"But you talk well enough to make a living anywhere. You won't find one man in ten out here who talks as plainly as you do."

"That's all owing to my way of bring up. Ever since I was a little kid I have been under the care of Uncle Ezra, who talks about as plain as most men do."