'm a great believer in the idea
that our own'll come to us some day, an' often in ways we least expect.
But, hello! what's that?"

The trail on which they were now walking wound along the side of a deep
valley, through which flowed a small stream. Samson was looking across
toward the opposite bank, and as Reynolds turned his eyes in that
direction he saw an Indian on horseback as motionless as the trees
around him. He was facing the two travellers, and apparently he had
been watching them for some time.

"Where do you suppose he has come from, and what does he want?"
Reynolds asked.

His companion's only reply was to bring his rifle to his shoulder and
fire two shots in rapid succession across the valley toward the
horseman, neither of which took effect. The Indian quickly unslung his
rifle, fired one shot in return, and immediately vanished into the
forest.

"Is that the best you can do?" Reynolds asked. "You should have let me
have a crack at him."

"Me aim's unsartin to-day," was the reply. "I don't allus miss like
that."

"But why did you shoot, anyway? The Indian was doing us no harm."

"He was skulkin' around, though, an' I jist gave him a hint to move
along."

"So you didn't intend to shoot him?"

"Oh, no. It was merely a hint, as I told ye."

"A queer hint, I should say," and Reynolds laughed. "Manners of the
wilderness, I suppose?"

"Sure. We don't stand on ceremony up here. We're a bluff bunch, an'
if we don't like a feller's company we tell him so without beatin'
around the bush."

"And did the Indian understand your meaning?"

"Y'bet he did. He took my shots as sayin', 'Good day. How are the
missus an' the kids? Mebbe they need ye.' His shot in reply jist
said, 'Thank ye; mebbe they do.' That was all."

Reynolds laughed at this quaint explanation, although he felt certain
that Samson was not telling him the truth. He said nothing about it,
however, and the prospector did not refer to it again. But Reynolds
had the feeling that his companion and the Indian understood each
other, and that the shots they had fired were signals, the meaning of
which was known only to themselves. Who was this Frontier Samson? he
mused. Was he in some manner in league with the Indians? Why had he
taken such an interest in him, a complete stranger, and a chechahco at
that? Why should he wish to reveal to him the secret of his gold
discovery? He could not for a moment think that Samson had a