he following morning.

"What do you think of that slippery customer, Abajo?" Bob asked his
chum, as the afternoon waned, and they were sitting on the long porch of
the ranch house.

"I've never liked him ever since he came here; but dad was in need of
help, and the half-breed certainly knows his business to a dot," replied
Frank, who was examining the new girth his chum had attached to his
saddle, mentally deciding that whatever the young Kentuckian attempted,
he did neatly and well.

"Didn't I hear something about his being a relative to that Spanish Joe
who gave us so much trouble a little while back, on Thunder Mountain?"
Bob continued.

"Well, I couldn't say for sure, but some say he is a nephew," Frank
answered. "Both of them have Mexican blood in their veins; and, when you
come to think of it, there is some resemblance in their faces."

"But do you really think Abajo was listening?" the other asked.

"It looked like it; that's as far as I've got," laughed Frank.

"But," Bob protested, "even if he knew that there was a big fortune
connected with the paper this queer old professor carries on his person,
what good would that do Abajo?"

Frank shrugged his broad shoulders as he replied:

"Well, you never can tell what crazy notions some of these schemers
after a fortune will hatch up. He might make up his mind to start a
little hunt for the hermit of Echo Cave on his own hook; with the idea
of getting a transfer of that valuable paper."

"That's a fact!" declared Bob, looking interested. "Perhaps, after all,
we won't have our work cut out for us as easy as we thought."

"Small difference that will make," Frank went on, with a shutting of his
teeth that told of the spirit animating the boy when difficulties hove
in sight.

"I agree with you, all right, Frank," his companion remarked. "And
perhaps it'll only make the hunt all the more interesting if we believe
we've got opposition. You know how it was when Peg Grant threw his hat
in the ring, and tried to find out what made those queer sounds in the
heart of Thunder Mountain?"

"Sure I do," came the quick reply. "It stirred us up to doing bigger
stunts than if we'd thought we had it all our own way. Nothing like
competition to get the best out of any fellow."

"Correct you are, Frank. But speaking of Abajo, perhaps that's him
coming back now," and as he spoke the Kentucky boy pointed across to a
point where a single rider could be seen heading for the r