d been reduced to such a condition as he
described.

The immense strength of Zeke had never impressed the Go Ahead Boys more
than when he finished his simple task of interring the bones which had
been discovered by Fred and John.

"If I should meet him on the street alone," whispered Fred to John, "I
should kindly give him the whole sidewalk. I believe that he could do
what Grant says he can. Just look at those hands."

"What does Grant say he can do?"

"Why he declares that Zeke can bend the barrel of a rifle."

CHAPTER II

A CLUE

The thoughts of the two boys speedily were withdrawn from the physical
prowess of their guide. At that moment he had again taken the little book
he had found in the pocket of the coat of the dead man, and, opening it,
said, "I'm not sure, boys, whether this man was Simon Moultrie or not. It
sounds just like him, but there's so little writing that I can't tell."

"What does it say?" inquired John eagerly.

"Why, it's a diary. Some days he didn't write anything and other days when
he did write, the pages are torn and the writing is so blurred that no one
can make out what he means."

"Let me see it," said Fred, extending his hand as he spoke.

Taking the little book Fred saw that it apparently was a diary as Zeke had
suggested. It was for the year 1914. One entry was quite distinct wherein
the unfortunate man had recorded the story of his journey to Tombstone
for fresh supplies.

When he commented upon this fact, Zeke said, "That's what makes me think
it might have been Simon. As I said to you he only came in twice each year
and then stayed just long enough to get supplies to last him for the next
six months. Of course he may have come in when I didn't know anything
about it."

"When did be make his trips?" inquired Fred.

"Usually about October and. April He didn't like to lose much time from
his prospecting so he would come in just about the time the snow was gone
and get fitted out for his work that summer."

"If he wont in last April," suggested John, "he must have lost some of his
supplies."

"Nobody knows just where he made his head quarters. It's more'n likely
though that the coyotes, if they could talk, might be able to tell you
more about what became of old Simon's bacon than any living man could."

"Here's something!" exclaimed Fred excitedly. "This is worth while," he
added, after he had looked carefully through the various pages of the
diary and in the