ey were being watched. Of course they met frequent
parties of pilgrims wandering this way and that, as they drank in the
tremendous glories of the canyon; but occasionally the boy believed he
had seen a head thrust out from behind some rock in their rear, and then
hastily withdrawn again as he looked.

Of course he could make a guess as to who was taking such a interest in
the progress of his chum and himself. No one, save Eugene Warringford,
would bother for even a minute about what they were doing, since richer
quarry by far than a couple of boys would catch the eye of any lawless
desperado, like those the two sheriffs were following, bent on making a
haul.

"Frank," said Bob, when the afternoon was drawing to a close, and they
had begun to think of picking out the spot where they would spend the
night; "tell me why you chose to head toward the East instead of the
other way, where Bright Angel trail attracts so many tourists?"

Frank cast one glance toward the guide, as if to make sure that John
Henry was far enough in advance not to be able to catch what was said.

"I had a reason, Bob," he remarked, seriously. "Before we got down into
the canyon, so as to choose which way we would go, I talked with several
men who were coming up. And Bob, I learned that an old Moqui Indian had
been seen heading toward the East late last night!"

"And you think it may have been our friend, Havasupai?" asked Bob.

"I'm pretty sure of it, from the descriptions they gave me," came the
answer.

"But Frank, think how impossible it seems that he could have reached
here almost as soon as we did; unless the old warrior was able to fly I
don't see how it could be done."

"I'm just as much up a tree as you are, Bob," laughed the other; "but,
all the same, I believe the Moqui has arrived, and is on his way right
now to where Echo Cave lies."

"Then he must have an aeroplane to help him out, for I don't see how
else he could make it," Bob insisted.

"Think for a minute, and you'll see it isn't actually impossible," Frank
continued. "He could have made Flagstaff that night, just as we did."

"Yes," admitted Bob, "that's a fact; for while he said he was tired, and
wanted a mount to fly from his people, who were looking for him, still I
understand that these Moquis are wonderful runners, and game to the last
drop of the hat. Oh! I grant you that he could have made Flagstaff that
night sometime."

"Well, Flagstaff is on the railroad, y