ux like Motoza was too cunning to
expose himself in that manner, and would have resorted to a different
method.

"He could have slain poor Fred in some other way, but do you believe he
has done so?"

"Younker," replied the sympathetic guide, "I ain't the one to trifle
with your feelings, fur you don't feel much worse than me, but I own up
that I don't know anything more 'bout this bus'ness than you. I mean by
that," he hastened to explain, "that I can't figger out in my mind what
that varmint has done till I pick up more knowledge than you've been
able to give me, and I can't do that afore to-morrow morning."

This sounded reasonable, but it was trying beyond imagination, for it
indicated that the long night must be spent in idleness, without the
raising of a finger to help the one who perhaps was in the most imminent
need of such assistance. There was no help, however, for it, and Jack
accepted the decision of his friend without a murmur.

The two sat at the mouth of the cavern, talking in low tones, until the
night was well advanced, when Hank said, with a voice that sounded
wonderfully low and tender for him:

"Now go in and lay down, younker, fur there'll be plenty of work fur you
to do to-morrer, and there's no saying when you'll git the chance to
sleep agin."

"Call me when it is my turn to go on guard."

"All right; and don't show yourself till I _do_ call you."

Jack walked into the cavern, first pausing to fling some wood on the
fire. Mingled with his feeling of despair was a dread of being alone in
the gloom. He did not believe he would sleep a wink through the night,
for never were his emotions wrought to a more keenly torturing point. It
was almost impossible to remain still, but he forced himself to lie
down, with his heavy blanket gathered around him.

It would be distressing to dwell upon the anguish and grief of the
youth, as he lay wide awake, his brain alert and his blood at
fever-heat. At times it all seemed so like a dream that he turned his
head to make sure Fred Greenwood, his loved chum and comrade, was not
lying at his side. But no, it was all a dreadful reality, and he groaned
in spirit.

As the minutes passed he appeared to grow more wakeful, until he was in
as full possession of his faculties as when fleeing from the grizzly
bear. And it was while lying thus, wondering what the hour could be,
that he became aware that Hank Hazletine was standing at the mouth of
the cavern, on the