be versed in "Signs in Stones." The large rock with
the small one on top read, "Here the trail begins." The smaller stone
to the left read, "Turn to the left." If the stone had been placed on
the right it would have read, "Turn to the right." If he had built a
pyramid of three stones, two on top of the large one, it would have
read, "You are warned: Proceed cautiously." Jimmie knew that Fenton
understood signs in stones, and would therefore have no difficulty in
following him if he came up later on.

As the boy followed on to the north, now and then sliding down
declivities, turning with dizzy eyes from great heights, but forever
keeping the direction taken by the hostile party ahead, he listened for
the sound of a gun, for the rattle of Fenton's drum, but listened in
vain. He feared that the boy had been captured on his way down.

Finally, after a rough journey of several hours' duration, the renegade
came to a halt at a point where the summit fell away in two directions,
to the north and to the east. The divide seemed at least three hundred
feet lower than that to the south, and sloped gradually, on the east,
to a desert-like plain, beyond which ran the river. Here the party
turned east toward the river and the boundary.

Jimmie, perched on a ledge facing the north, watched Fremont moving
away with a desire in his heart to send a bullet after the Englishman.
He tried to attract the attention of the captive, but did not succeed.
While the boy lay watching and listening for any sounds of rescuers
coming up the slope, a great rock, somewhere to the south, went
tumbling down the mountain, carrying smaller rocks with it until the
rattle of falling stones sounded like the din of a battle.

The renegade started and looked about suspiciously, doubtless fearing
that the slide had been caused by the incautious feet of a pursuer, but
his companions smiled and informed him that such incidents were common
there and not at all alarming.

Jimmie smiled, too, for when the rattle ceased he heard a Black Bear
growling in a ravine not far away. In a second the snarl of a Wolf
answered the growl of the Bear, and then, almost before he became
aware of their stealthy approach, Frank Shaw and Peter Fenton lay
beside him in his hiding place. It seemed to the boy, as they lay
there panting from their long climb, that they had dropped out of the
sky.

He gave each one a friendly kick and waited, with a grin on his face.

"S