later a halloo from old Huck
brought them together again.

There was another place where the road-agents had halted, for there were
the three telltale spots of blood lying close together.

Again they separated on a search, but after hours spent in vain, they
were forced to give it up, old Huck remarking:

"Thar is snow higher up, so it's no use, now."

Back to Last Chance the party reluctantly retraced their way, after
they had eaten their noonday meal, and all hope of finding a clue to the
retreat of the road-agents was given up, save by old Huckleberry, who
each day went off on a hunt, though many were sure that it was a trail,
not game, that he was hunting.

When at last the day came for him to start off on his run, he mounted
his box without the slightest apparent reluctance, nodded good-by and
drove off on his perilous journey.

There was much anxiety felt at Last Chance for his return, and a number
talked of riding out to the Dead Line and meeting him, but this was not
done, as a suggestion was made that the old man might not take it
kindly, but look upon it as an interference, a belief that he was not
able to take care of himself.

When, however, the time for his arrival came, and no stage appeared, men
looked anxiously at each other and wondered if the old man was another
victim to the road-agents' hunt for gold.

When an hour passed and there was no stage in sight, Doctor Dick said
that he would mount his horse and go to see what was the matter. He was
not allowed to go alone, for a score of mounted men at once followed
him, and the ride was a rapid one to the Dead Line, for the coach was
not met on the way.

Arriving at the Dead Line the coach loomed in sight. It was still, and
dashing up the horses were found hitched to trees.

But not a soul was visible. The box was empty, and not a soul was found
within.

Where was old Huck? That question could not be answered, and a search
was at once begun.

Upon the stage-box blood was found. That looked very bad for old Huck.

Some one had hitched those horses to the trees surely, but who?

The coach, had evidently been searched, for the cushions were thrown out
and the boot open, and yet, strange to say, the mail-bag had escaped the
eyes of the searchers, being found by Landlord Larry where old Huck
always hid it, in one of the cushions arranged for the purpose by the
old man.

Who had been killed, or what the coach had been robbed of, was not
revea