erba buena
vine was beginning to mat the surface of the heap. But the boy's fancy
was quickly taken by the traces of a singular accident, and one which
had perhaps arrested the progress of the excavators. The roots of a
large pine-tree growing close to the wall had been evidently loosened by
the excavators, and the tree had fallen, with one of its largest roots
still in the opening the miners had made, and apparently blocking the
entrance. The large tree lay, as it fell--midway across another but much
smaller outcrop of rock which stood sharply about fifteen feet above
the level of the terrace--with its gaunt, dead limbs in the air at a low
angle. To Johnny's boyish fancy it seemed so easily balanced on the rock
that but for its imprisoned root it would have made a capital see-saw.
This he felt must be looked to hereafter. But here his attention was
arrested by something more alarming. His quick ear, attuned like an
animal's to all woodland sounds, detected the crackling of underwood
in the distance. His equally sharp eye saw the figures of two men
approaching. But as he recognized the features of one of them he drew
back with a beating heart, a hushed breath, and hurriedly hid himself in
the shadow. For he had seen that figure once before--flying before
the sheriff and an armed posse--and had never forgotten it! It was the
figure of Spanish Pete, a notorious desperado and sluice robber!

Finding he had been unobserved, the boy took courage, and his
small faculties became actively alive. The two men came on together
cautiously, and at a little distance the second man, whom Johnny did not
know, parted from his companion and began to loiter up and down, looking
around as if acting as a sentinel for the desperado, who advanced
directly to the fallen tree. Suddenly the sentinel uttered an
exclamation, and Spanish Pete paused. The sentinel was examining the
ground near the heap of debris.

"What's up?" growled the desperado.

"Foot tracks! Weren't here before. And fresh ones, too."

Johnny's heart sank. It was where he had just passed.

Spanish Pete hurriedly joined his companion.

"Foot tracks be ----!" he said scornfully. "What fool would be crawlin'
round here barefooted? It's a young b'ar!"

Johnny knew the footprints were his own. Yet he recognized the truth
of the resemblance; it was uncomplimentary, but he felt relieved. The
desperado came forward, and to the boy's surprise began to climb the
small ridge of ou