ove it rose another wall of rock. And it
was against the base of this latter that the objects which
attracted Tom's attention were silhouetted.

"By jove! They are men," exclaimed Mr. Wilder excitedly. "I never
knew there was a trail along the base of that cliff before."

The boys were tremendously stirred up as they heard this
confirmation.

"Perhaps they are the men going to guard the Lost Lode for the
night," Horace whispered. "They wouldn't need a trail to walk on,
father."

"Steady, boy, steady," returned the ranchman. "Those men are flesh
and blood, don't worry about that. Who they are I don't know.
Probably some hunters like ourselves."

"That couldn't be the way to the mine, could it?" hazarded Larry,
whose eagerness to discover a silver mine had received new impetus.
"Can't we go there to-morrow and find out?"

"We'll see when to-morrow comes," declared Mr. Wilder. "But
there's no occasion to get excited. The mountains are full of men
hunting and prospecting all the time. Come on, we'll camp under
that big tree up there to the right. Whoever gets there first will
be boss of the camp."

The challenge for a race, with the honor of being in command of the
hunt as the prize, served to take the boys' thoughts from the
mysterious men on the trail as nothing else could, and quickly they
leaped their ponies forward.

The spot selected by the ranchman for their night's bivouac was
about a quarter of a mile away and in the opposite direction from
the cliffs.

Yelling like young Indians, the boys urged their jaded ponies to
greater efforts.

Tom and Horace, being lighter than the others, had not tried their
mounts so much, and rapidly they drew ahead.

"We simply must beat them," called Bill to Larry. "If they get in
first, they'll make us haul all the water and wash dishes--at least
Horace will, if he wins."

Leaning over their ponies' necks and rising in the saddles to
lighten their weight as much as possible, the two elder boys set
out to overtake their brothers.

With spur and lariat end they belabored their mounts and gamely the
horses responded.

Leap by leap they cut down the lead, were soon abreast of the
others and then forged ahead, shouting in triumph as they opened
clear ground between them.

Only about a hundred yards were the leaders from the tree.

Feeling his pony tiring under him, despite his urging, Horace
gasped at Tom:

"Hit Blackhawk with the end of your lasso and t