few supplies as would be needed
for the day's march into Snowy Gulch. In less than five minutes they
were on their way--tramping in file down the narrow moose trail.

They crossed the divide, thus reaching the headwaters of Poor Man's
Creek; then took the trail down toward the settlements. But the two
claim-jumpers had not yet learned all the day's ill news. Half-way to
the mouth of the stream they met Chan Heminway on his way back to the
claim.

At the first sight of him, riding in the rear of a long train of laden
pack horses, they could hardly believe their eyes. It was not to be
credited that he had made the trip to Bradleyburg and back in the few
days he had been absent. Only an aeroplane could have made so fast a
trip. Could it be that in spite of his definite orders he was returning
with the duty of recording the claim still unperformed? To Neilson,
however, the sight of the long pack train brought some measure of
satisfaction. Here were horses laden with the summer supplies that Chan
had been told to procure, and they could be utilized in the pursuit of
Beatrice. Two days at least could be saved.

"What in the devil you coming back for?" Ray shouted, when Chan's
identity became certain.

Chan rode nearer as if he had not heard. He checked his horse
deliberately, undoubtedly inwardly excited by the news he had to tell
and perhaps somewhat triumphant because he was its bearer. "I'm coming
back because there ain't no use in staying at Snowy Gulch any longer,"
he answered at last. "I've got the supplies, and I'm packin' up to the
claim, just as I was told."

"But why didn't you go to Bradleyburg and record the claim?" Ray
stormed. "Don't you know until that's done we're likely to be chased off
any minute?"

Chan looked into his partner's angry eyes, and his own lips drew in a
scowl. "Because there wasn't any use in goin' to Bradleyburg."

Ray was stricken with terror, and his words faltered. "You mean you
could tend to it in Snowy Gulch--"

"I don't mean nothing of the kind. Shut up a minute, and I'll tell you
about it. A few days ago Steve Morris got a letter addressed to old
Hiram Melville--in care of Steve. He opened it and read it, and I heard
about it soon as I got into town. There ain't no use of our trying to
record that claim."

"For God's sake, why?"

"Because it's already recorded, that's why. We all felt so sure, and we
wasn't sure at all. Before old Hiram died he wrote a letter--one of them