osted at the entrance.

It consisted of a barrel-head nailed together, and the words upon it
were as follows:

"FORBIDDEN PASS!"
"Travelers must pay toll, or go some other way."
"Private Road!"

Jim Dart struck a match so the inscription could be read, and when they
had made it out our three friends looked at each other and nodded, while
the miner waited to hear what would be said.

"I reckon that's what I call putty good," said the scout, a smile
creeping over his bronzed face. "'Private Road,' eh? Well, I wonder who
is ther owner of it!"

"We'll find out all about it, Charlie," said Wild, assuringly. "Just
wait till to-morrow morning. We'll take a ride through the pass, and
don't you forget it!"

"Well, it might be that yer won't be bothered now, fur it's jest likely
that ther outlaws has quit ther pass an' gone somewhere else," Sedgwick
remarked. "If them cowboys is all right, an' they kin go through without
bein' bothered, it are most likely that you fellers kin."

"But I don't believe they are all right," our hero answered. "I think
that they belong to the outlaw gang, and that they came over here and
talked that way just on purpose to get the people here to use the pass,
instead of going by the roundabout way to Silver Bend."

"It looks that way, I'll admit, Wild."

"Well, no matter how it is, we'll go through the pass to-morrow, I
reckon. And we'll come back, too, if it takes a whole day to do it."

It was just then that the sounds made by a approaching horse came to
their ears.

"Somebody is coming through now," said the scout, as he listened.

"Get behind the rocks here," Wild whispered. "We will watch him as he
goes past, and see what he does, if anything."

A few seconds later a horseman came in view.

Our friends could distinguish the outlines of both horse and rider, and
when they saw the man halt right at the end of the pass they were not a
little interested.

The rider turned and looked at the sign, and, nodding when he found that
the sign was there all right, he started on for the little collection of
shanties.

"That's Cap Roche, ther storekeeper over in Silver Bend," Sedgwick
whispered, as he went on.

"Is that so?" Wild queried. "Well, I reckon we'll go back to the saloon
and find out what kind of a fellow Cap Roche is."

CHAPTER V.

CAP ROCHE MEETS YOUNG WILD WEST.

Chuck Snivel was not long in telling Cap Roche all that had taken place
over in Big