k
between the blankets to warm and talk it over with Willis. About nine
o'clock they got up, still wondering what could have brought men into
that canyon on such a morning.

Surely there was no hunting, and why should men from the claim in the
other gulch be coming up through Buffalo Park? The boys were bothered.
They were just sitting down to a breakfast of steaming-hot cakes when
from somewhere up in the timber came the clear sound of some one
hammering on metal, heavy blow after blow. Ham paused, listened
attentively, a forkful of hot cake raised half-way to his mouth. The
sound came very clearly and at regular intervals.

"Sounds like some one pounding a stone drill; perhaps they are going to
do some blasting!"

Willis rose from his seat, threw open the door, and looked up the snowy
hillside. He was right--the sound came from the direction of his father's
mine.

"What on earth would any one be blasting up there for?" he said, half to
himself. He was thinking of what Ben had told him the last time he was at
the Roost. Ham had also risen from the table and stood looking out over
Willis's shoulder. The bark of a dog came floating down the canyon.

Suddenly there was a sharp rattle in the corner of the cabin, followed by
a heavy thud. Ham turned quickly, just in time to see the ax fall to the
floor from its place in the corner. Willis felt a long, cold shiver creep
up his back. The ax had been laid on top of the little stove in the
corner, and something had caused it to fall.

"Spooks," laughed Ham dryly.

"What made that ax fall?" questioned Willis in a voice which betrayed his
feeling. They advanced cautiously toward the corner. There was a scamper
of tiny feet, and a large gray rat bounded across the floor and dropped
out of sight through a long opening between the floor and the wall. In a
moment Willis was down on his hands and knees, investigating.

"Well, of all things," he said, as he looked up laughingly at Ham; "we
have located our mysterious robber. Here are all of our precious fire
starters." Ham stooped to see for himself, and there, under the stove in
the corner, was a neat little pile of pine slivers.

"If that rat lived in the city," observed Ham, "he'd be a shoplifter,
sure. It's strange he hasn't stolen our food?"

"Ham, I'm going to the mine. Do you want to stay here or go along?" Ham
thought a moment, then began to pull on his coat. As he passed the
fireplace, he threw on another log, then