wise take no chances.

"I see them!" Bob announced; but although the other saddle boy had not
said so, he had picked up the advancing figures several seconds before.

"One thing sure," remarked Frank, as though relieved, "I reckon they
can't be horse thieves or cattle rustlers."

"You mean they wouldn't be so bold about coming forward?" ventured Bob.

"That's about the size of it; but we'll soon know," Frank went on.

As the strangers drew rapidly nearer he began to make out their "style"
for the night was not intensely dark. And somehow Frank's curiosity
increased in bounds. He discovered no signs of the customary cowboy
outfit about them. They wore garments that savored of civilization, and
sat their horses with the air of men accustomed to much riding.

"Hold hard there, strangers; or you'll be riding us down!" Frank sang
out, as the newcomers loomed up close at hand.

At that the others drew rein, and brought their horses to a halt.
Bending low in the saddle they seemed to be peering at the dimly-seen
figures of the two boys.

"Who is it--speak quick!" one of the strangers said; and Frank believed
he heard a suspicious click accompanying the thrilling words.

"Two boys bound for Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon," he answered, not
wishing to take any unnecessary chances.

"Where from, and what's your names?" continued the other, in his
commanding voice, that somehow told Frank he must be one accustomed to
demanding obedience.

The ranch boy no longer felt any uneasiness. He believed that these men
were not to be feared.

"I am the son of Colonel Haywood, owner of the Circle Ranch; and this is
my chum, Bob Archer, a Kentucky boy," he said, boldly.

Then the other man, who as yet had not spoken, took occasion to remark:

"'Taint them, after all, Stanwix! Perhaps we've been following the wrong
trail."

The name gave Frank an idea. He had heard more or less about the doings
of a sheriff in a neighboring county, called Yavapai, and his name was
the same as that mentioned by the second dimly seen rider.

"Are you gentlemen from Prescott?" he asked.

"That's where I hold out when I'm home," replied the one who had asked
about their identity.

"Are you Sheriff Stanwix?" pursued the boy, while his companion almost
held his breath in suspense.

"I am; and this is Hand, who holds the same office in this county of
Coconino," replied the other, as he threw a leg over his saddle as
though about to dismount.