That evening the three held council; and it was not long before they came to an agreement. Joe and Dave each wrote a long letter telling of what they had done and what they meant to do. These were addressed to Joe’s father at the San Gabriel Mission. They told him to be of good heart and to remain where he was until he heard from them again. “We are going to search for Moccasin Williams until we find him,” wrote Joe to his father. “And to help us we have the finest fellow you ever saw--a dead shot, and one of the quickest brains on the frontier. It may be some time before we see you again; but don’t worry, dad; we’ll be all right, and will come through it all with credit to you.” “Buck Morgan’ll be trading up as far as the Colorado this summer,” Kit told the boys. “And he’ll be sure to find a Mexican or a Pueblo who’ll carry the writings to the mission.” Next day this was seen to; the trader, who was the same Kit had interviewed on the previous morning, readily agreed to see to the forwarding of the letters. “And I’ll send a little word of my own,” said he kindly to the boys. “You see you’re only youngsters and he might think you’re plunging into some harum-scarum thing that’ll bring you nothing but danger. But if an outsider tells him it’s the best thing to be done, it might hearten him up a little.” The boys thanked Mr. Morgan for his good-natured offer and begged him not to let the idea slip his mind; then, with Kit, they rode off toward Taos. This latter town was even of a more primitive cast than Santa Fé; it was smaller and the population was less law abiding. Into Taos poured all the trappers, teamsters and other wild spirits of the country; and from Taos set out almost all the expeditions in search of fur, trade and adventure. A week was given to the search for Moccasin Williams; but they failed to find him. They were careful to make but guarded inquiries for the man; to have him learn, in case he was skulking anywhere about, that he was being sought, would have no other effect than to frighten him away. However, the search was thorough for all their secrecy; and the end was that Taos was given up as a possible hiding place. Then they took up Lopez’ idea of the settlements off among the hills; weird barbarous places where the Mexicans and half-breeds lived in a most primitive condition; failing to find any trace of the man the Indians were tried at their lonely villages; but all to no purpose. “He’s gone,” said Kit, with conviction, one day at the end of summer; “he’s gone as sure as shooting. But where?” Then one day, on the main street of Taos, they encountered old Zeke Matthews. “Just now joined Fitzpatrick’s company to trap on the Salmon River,” he told them, after they had exchanged greetings. “Lot of trapping going to be done this season. Old Cap’n Gaunt went out already. Got some of Young’s old men; I’d have gone too, but you see I’ve got so’s I pick my company very carefully these days.”