here was no attempt to combat the opinions of their leader;
possibly the same sense of disappointed hopes was felt by all, only
they preferred to let the man of greater experience voice it. He went
on:--

"We've had our little game, boys, ever since we left Rawlin's a week
ago; we've had our ups and downs; we've been starved and parched,
snowed up and half drowned, shot at by road-agents and horse-thieves,
kicked by mules and played with by grizzlies. We've had a heap o' fun,
boys, for our money, but I reckon the picnic is about over. So we'll
shake hands to-morrow all round and call it square, and go on our ways
separately."

"And what do you think you'll do, Uncle Dick?" said his close-shaven
companion listlessly.

"I'll make tracks for a square meal, a bed that a man can comfortably
take off his boots and die in, and some violet-scented soap.
Civilization's good enough for me! I even reckon I wouldn't mind 'the
sound of the church-going bell' ef there was a theatre handy, as there
likely would be. But the wilderness is played out."

"You'll be back to it again in six months, Uncle Dick," retorted the
other quickly.

Uncle Dick did not reply. It was a peculiarity of the party that in
their isolated companionship they had already exhausted discussion and
argument. A silence followed, in which they all looked at the fire as
if it was its turn to make a suggestion.

"Collinson," said the pleasant voice abruptly, "who lives in the hollow
this side of the Divide, about two miles from the first spur above the
big canyon?"

"Nary soul!"

"Are you sure?"

"Sartin! Thar ain't no one but me betwixt Bald Top and
Skinner's--twenty-five miles."

"Of course, YOU'D know if any one had come there lately?" persisted the
pleasant voice.

"I reckon. It ain't a week ago that I tramped the whole distance that
you fellers just rode over."

"There ain't," said the leader deliberately, "any enchanted castle or
cabin that goes waltzing round the road with revolving windows and
fairy princesses looking out of 'em?"

But Collinson, recognizing this as purely irrelevant humor, with
possibly a trap or pitfall in it, moved away from the fireplace without
a word, and retired to the adjoining kitchen to prepare supper.
Presently he reappeared.

"The pork bar'l's empty, boys, so I'll hev to fix ye up with jerked
beef, potatoes, and flapjacks. Ye see, thar ain't anybody ben over
from Skinner's store for a week."

"All