came out to see rough times," interrupted the young man from the
east. "So unless you think I'll be too much of a hindrance, I would like
greatly to accompany you wherever you go. You must remember that I, too,
am anxious to find your uncle."

"Then, thet's settled," said Ike Watson. He did not much fancy having
the company of a "tenderfoot," but Noel's manner pleased him.

A long discussion followed. While it was in progress Mrs. Wampole
prepared a hot supper, to which later on Allen and the others did full
justice.

It was decided to remain at the crossroads hotel all night, and the
three retired early, that they might make a start before sunrise.

It must be confessed that the young ranchman slept but little. His mind
was in a whirl over all he had discovered, and he shuddered whenever he
thought that his uncle might possibly be in peril of his life.

"Those men would indeed dare all for gold, as those initials on the
cross imply," he said to himself. "What a pity they were not
exterminated the time old Sol Davids was lynched."

Toward morning Allen dropped off into a troubled slumber, to be awakened
with a start by a touch from Ike Watson's hand an hour later.

"Time ter climb below an' feed up, Allen," cried the old hunter. "We hev
a long ride afore us, ez ye know."

"That's true!" cried the young ranchman, springing to his feet; and Ike
went off to arouse Noel Urner.

The young man from New York felt rather stiff from his ride of the day
previous. Yet he did not complain, and did all he could to make the
others believe he felt in perfect trim for another day in the saddle.

After a substantial but hasty breakfast the horses were saddled and they
were off, Daddy Wampole waving his hand after them and wishing them the
best of luck.

"We'll make for Casey's Fork fust o' all," said Ike Watson. "Perhaps I
can pick up the trail thar. If I can't we kin push on toward the Salmon
an' trust ter luck."

Allen was doubtful if the old hunter could pick up the trail after
having once lost it, but in lieu of something better, he agreed to
Watson's plan. Noel, of course, was willing to go wherever the others
led.

It was high noon when Casey's Fork, a rough lot of rocks in a bend of
the Umihalo Creek, was reached. Allen and Noel were glad enough to
dismount in the shadow of the rocks while Ike Watson went off on a tour
of inspection.

The old hunter was gone so long that Allen at last grew alarmed.

"Something