ion sometimes than being in front for in
their travels through dangerous regions, it was the man in the rear who
was more apt to be cut off by the wily Indians. But the cool and crafty
Juarez was not likely to be caught napping.

Even now you notice as they ride along through the comparatively safe
region of the coast range that Jim and Juarez are ever on the alert,
glancing this way and that, halting to examine some peculiar mark on the
trail, and not a motion of tree or bush upon either mountain slope
escapes their attention. They had lived too long in the midst of
treacherous enemies, Indians and outlaws, to be taken off their guard.
They had been in Mexico on a venture the outcome of which was all their
fondest dreams could wish for. Their expedition over, Tom was for going
home, to at least deposit the treasure they had gained, but the others
had outvoted him, and now the long pleasure trip to Hawaii was their
object.

Now, if they but had known it, they were riding to meet the most deadly
danger that they had yet encountered. For as you know, Captain Broom and
his party were advancing to meet them. In an open or running fight, we
know perfectly well that the boys could take care of themselves, but in
the skipper of the Sea Eagle, they were to meet a far more dangerous
opponent than in Eagle Feather, described in "The Frontier Boys in
Colorado" or Cal Jenkins in Kansas and in Mexico as detailed in
"Overland Trail" and in "Mexico." In compliance with a determined plan,
they were now on their way to Hawaii.

Not only had Captain Broom the craftiness and cruelty of the Indian, but
the cool, hard judgment of the New England Yankee, coupled with a
knowledge of their possessions, supposedly limited to themselves alone.
The Mexican spy, who had reported the route the boys were going to take,
had given the game into his master's hands.

"I wonder what has become of our one-eyed greaser friend," said Jim, "we
haven't seen any sign of him since he gave us the shake a week ago at
the hunting camp. I kind of thought we might run across him again."

"It's good riddance to bad rubbish," said Juarez in a surly tone. "If I
had my way I'd hang him to the first oak tree on general principles and
on account of his personal appearance. I bet he is a treacherous little
rat."

"He isn't very pretty, that's a fact," admitted Jim, "but he is a useful
little beast about the camp and can do a lot of chores."

"I kind of like to hear