royal. "You and Rex and Dill and
Dickson make that raid at once on their camp, which, I fancy, you will
find somewhere near the Devil's Slide."

Ham proved to be right; for, when he and the men who went with him,
returned from the raid, some two hours later, they had with them fifteen
horses, ten of which were heavily laden with food and other camp
supplies, and one prisoner, the man who had been left to guard the camp.

"Now, I reckon, we've got them all, twenty-tew livin' an' tew dead," Ham
declared, as he bound his prisoner and placed him with the other
captives: "an' right whar we can keep them out of mischief. Thar's
plenty of food for all, Con," and he turned to Conroyal, "leastwise for
a few days, so th' food problem is settled. Now, what are you proposin'
of dewin'? We want tew git th' gold an' git out of here as soon as we
can," and he lowered his voice.

"I can't see but one thing for us to do, Ham," Mr. Conroyal answered,
"and that is to keep a guard over the prisoners, while the rest of us
get the gold out; and then, when we've got the gold, to turn them loose
in the mountains, without weapons or horses, and make for home as fast
as we can. We've been considering the problem, while you were after the
horses and camp supplies, and that is the conclusion that we have come
to. How does it strike you?"

"'Bout right, under th' circumstances," answered Ham. "An' th' sooner we
git things a-goin' ag'in th' better. I'm gettin' some anxious tew git
back intew that cave."

"We'll get busy at once," declared Mr. Conroyal. "But first, I reckon,
we ought to bury them two corpses. 'Twouldn't be Christian to leave them
to rot a-top the ground or to be ate up by wolves."

"Shore," agreed Ham. "Come on, Rex. We're th' responsible fellers, an',
I reckon, it's up tew us tew dig th' grave. We'll put 'em both in one
grave," and he picked up a pick and shovel and started to where the body
of Quinley lay.

In a short time the two men had the grave dug.

"Now for the bodies," and Ham caught hold of Quinley and turned the body
over. "Wal, I swun!" and he stared down at the left hand. The little
finger had been recently shot away and the wound was still roughly
bandaged. "So y'ur th' feller that I owe a finger tew. Wal, here it is,"
and he thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out the little
buckskin-wrapped parcel, containing the little finger that he had shot
from the unknown hand the night they were encamped on the s