up for weeks, and almost next door to a troop of
soldiers, without getting located. It's going to be largely a matter
of luck if we nab 'em!"

"Well, here's hoping," voiced Bud, as he turned toward the fire.

It was chilly out in the open at that hour of the morning. For though
the days are very hot, it began to get cool very often as soon as the
sun went down, and the air kept getting cooler until the golden rays
again warmed the earth. So one and all sought the genial blaze, to
thaw out a little before again rolling in blankets to wait for sunrise.

Aside from the alarm over the shooting stars, nothing else disturbed
the camp that night, and all were gladly astir with daybreak. The fire
was started into new life, and soon coffee was boiling over the coals,
while mingled with its odor was the appetizing smell of crisp bacon.

"Let me make the flapjacks," begged Rolling Stone. "I used to be a
great hand for them, and I still have some small skill."

He would need to have, for not a member of the party but what could
turn a neatly browned cake high in the air, catching it unerringly as
it came down, to be cooked on the other side. Even Nort and Dick had
become quite adept at this.

But the skill of even Snake Purdee had to take a back seat in the face
of the performance of Rolling Stone. Not only were his cakes better in
taste, and more delicately browned, but he showed almost uncanny skill
in tossing them high in the air, and catching them in the pan as they
came down. Not once did a cake "slop over"--that is descend half
within and half without the pan. Each one fell true and in the middle
of the skillet, there to be held over the coals again until crisp and
brown.

"You're a wonder--that's what you are!" affirmed Yellin' Kid in his
usual hearty tones, as he passed his tin plate for more.

"It's a gift--that's all! Just a gift!" modestly admitted the
self-constituted "flapjacketer," as he laughingly dubbed himself.

Smart was the word and smart was the action when breakfast was ended.
The horses had made their meal during the night, and were ready for
their riders who were soon in the saddle, riding toward the north--the
north in which direction the Yaquis had vanished with their
captives--the north where the mysterious signal lights had been seen.

Through the day rode the posse of self-constituted seekers after the
captives. They could not hope, for some time yet, to come upon actual
traces of t