came to an uneven locality, filled with dangerous holes and
pitfalls.

"Careful here, boys!" cried Tom Dillon. "We don't want none o' the
hosses to break a leg."

He was in the lead, and under his guidance they advanced slowly. At the
top of a short rise of ground he came to a halt.

"Here is where part o' that landslide occurred," he announced, pointing
with his hand. "I think myself it was somethin' of an earthquake,
although the scientific sharps say not. But if it wasn't an earthquake
it was mighty queer that it hit this spot and the other at the same
time--both bein' miles apart."

"Perhaps the shock of the falling rocks at one place shook the other,"
suggested Dave.

"Perhaps, lad. It's a mystery--an' I suppose it will remain a mystery.
We know some things about Nater, but there's others she keeps putty well
hid."

They went down on the other side of the rise, and then commenced to
mount an even larger hill--the last but one, so the old miner told the
boys. Far in the distance they could make out the railroad tracks,
winding along through the mountains. The sun was setting, and the
western sky was aflame with varied colors of most gorgeous hues.

"What a beautiful sunset!" murmured Dave.

Soon the gloom of evening commenced to settle about them. All had their
eyes ahead, but so far they had seen no trace of the Blower party.

"Wait a minute!" cried Dave, presently. He had seen something white
fluttering among the rocks on the side of the trail.

"What do you see?" asked Phil.

"A newspaper."

"Oh, let it go, Dave. We have all the old newspapers we want."

"I want to see how recent it is," was our hero's reply.

He got down, walked to where the paper rested in a crevice, and drew it
forth.

"It's a copy of a mining journal," he announced, as he looked the sheet
over. "The issue for last week," he added, gazing at the date. "It's
full of grease, too,--that's why they threw it away."

"Do you suppose it belonged to Abe Blower?" questioned Roger, coming up.

"It did!" cried Dave. He had turned to the front page of the paper.
"See, here is Abe Blower's name and address, stamped on for mailing
purposes. He got it through the mail just before he left and took it
along to wrap something in."

"Then that proves we are on the right trail!" cried Roger, joyfully. "I
wonder how long ago it was when he threw the paper away?"

"I'm not detective enough to tell you that, Roger," answered Dave, with
a gr