boy's eyes grew large as he gazed at the tree
where the cat had been left the evening before. There was no lion there.

"Hey, Mr. Nance, did you move the cat?"

"No. Why?"

"He isn't where we left him last night."

"What?" Nance was out on the jump. "Sure as you're alive he's gone.
Now doesn't that beat all?"

Tad had hurried over to the place where he stood gloomily surveying
the scene.

"I wonder where the rope and wire are?"

"That's so. He must have carried the whole business with him."

"How could he? How could he have untied the wire from the tree? There
is something peculiar about this affair, Dad."

Whatever Dad's opinion might have been, he did not express it at the
moment. Instead he got down on all fours, examining the ground
carefully, going over every inch of it for several rods about the scene.

"Well this does git me," he declared, standing up, scratching his head
reflectively.

By that time the rest of the party had come out.

"The lion's gone," shouted Tad.

"What, my lion got away?" wailed Chunky. "And he didn't take a chunk
out of me to carry away with him?"

"I had no idea we could hold him. Of course he gnawed the rope in
two," nodded the Professor.

"He didn't get loose of his own accord, sir," replied the guide.

"Then you don't mean to tell me that some person or persons liberated
him?"

"I don't mean to tell you anything, because I don't know anything about
it. I never was so befuddled in my life. I'm dead-beat, Professor."

Tad was gloomy. He had hoped to take the lion home with them, having
already planned where he would keep the beast until the town, which he
thought of presenting it to, had prepared a place for the gift. Now his
hopes had been dashed. He had no idea that they would be able to get
another lion. It was not so easy as all that. But how had the beast
gotten away? There was a mystery about it fully as perplexing as had
been the loss of Stacy's rifle. Tad was beginning to think, with Dad,
that mysterious forces were, indeed, at work in the Grand Canyon.

While he was brooding over the problem, Chunky, emulating the movements
of the guide, was down on hands and knees, examining the ground.

"Find any footprints?" called Ned in a jeering voice.

Stacy did not reply. His brow was wrinkled; his face wore a wise
expression.

"Look out that you don't get bitten," warned Walter mischievously.

"By what?" demanded Stacy, glancing up.

"Fo