back with blazing
pine torches in their hands.

There were no hostile Indians in that part of the country, and they knew
that Ugger and his gang could not be there yet in sufficient force to
dare venture to attack them, so they did not fear to advance on the
little clump of trees with lighted torches in their hands.

There were three small trees and the one large tree and a few low bushes
in the clump. The ground around these was as carefully searched as was
possible by the light of the torches; but not a sign of Ham's human owl
did they find.

"Must have been a real owl after all, Ham," Mr. Conroyal said, as he was
about to give up the search and to return to the camp.

But, at this moment, Thure uttered a startled exclamation and, bending
quickly, picked up something from the ground and held it up where the
light of the torches showed it plainly to all.

It was a little finger freshly severed from a left hand!

"Marked him! By gum, I marked him!" cried Ham exultingly.

"You sure did, Ham," and Mr. Conroyal bent hastily and examined the
finger carefully. "It came from the hand of a white man all right," he
declared. "And the hand of rather a small man, the left hand. Well, you
will know your man the next time you see him, Ham."

"I shore will," grinned Ham. "An', if I dew, I wants tew return him his
finger; so I'll jest take charge of that leetle bit of anatominy," and,
reaching out, he took the finger from Thure, and, carefully wrapping it
up in a piece of buckskin, thrust it into one of his pockets. "Wal, th'
excitement is all over now, boys, an' you can return tew y'ur downy
couches an' soft pillers. I reckon thar won't be no more owl hootin'
tew-night, leastwise not from that bird," and Ham chuckled.

All now returned to the camp and to their blankets; and Ham resumed his
watch in the dark shadows under the big tree.

Ham was right. There was no more owl hooting that night. But the finding
of that finger had brought uneasy thoughts to all. Evidently they had
not succeeded in throwing their cunning enemies off the trail. And now,
here they were within a few hours' march of Lot's Canyon, of the Cave of
Gold, and with the scoundrels still hot on their track! What was to be
done? How could they now hope to throw Ugger and his men off their
trail, when all their efforts so far had been in vain? Indeed, how had
Ugger and his men been able to keep on their trail, through all the maze
of mountains and forests an