of attention was needed to put them in trim for the
morning's work. At last, with their canteens freshly filled and hung
across their shoulders, and the dwindling bag of rations secured to
Clancy's machine, they got clear of the old ruins and made their start
along the golden trail.

The scattered ore led upward and through the gap, then out on the
farther side and into the foothills. Nor did the trail, after getting
away from the circular valley, point toward Gold Hill. On the contrary,
it bent in the opposite direction.

"Here's where the facts knock another hole in Ballard's dream," said
Frank. "Gold Hill is northwest of us, and the ore takes us southeast."

"We haven't any gasoline to waste, Chip," remarked Clancy, "and if we go
very far in this direction we're liable to get hung up in the desert
with a couple of dead engines."

"The reservoirs were still when we left the mine, Clan, and I guess, if
were careful, we can make the round trip without having to walk part of
the way. If the golden trail promises to lead us too far, we'll hide the
machines somewhere and go over some of it on foot:"

The man with the burro and the leaky ore bag had naturally hunted for
the easiest way through the hills. His devious course bothered the boys
a little in keeping track of the pieces of dropped ore. The pieces lay
on the ground at irregular intervals. Sometimes there would be two
samples within three or four yards of each other, and then perhaps the
boys would have to go three or four hundred feet before they found
another. At such times the hoofmarks of the burro served as a guide.

"That thief is a mighty careless sort of a man," said Clancy. "It's a
wonder he didn't notice what was going on, and stop the leak."

"Strikes me," answered Merry, "that he walked, and led the burro. If
that was the case he wasn't in a position to see that the loot was
getting away from him."

For at least a mile the golden trail zigzagged through the foothills.
Finally it came out on a level stretch of ground, partly covered with a
chaparral of greasewood, ironwood, and paloverde.

Frank had been noticing for several minutes that the single set of burro
tracks had grown into a veritable clutter of hoofprints. A good many of
the prints were large enough to suggest that horses had passed over the
golden trail.

Merry and Clancy were discussing the additional tracks as they wheeled
out upon the flat bit of desert. They could make nothing o