The boys forgot their wet clothes. They forgot their recent peril, and their escape from the bad men. They thought of nothing but what might be before them. They had traveled about two hours. The valley was growing darker as the moon was sinking lower and lower behind the cliffs. All at once Jack, who was in the lead, stopped. He pointed ahead to a dark shadow. "See; there is a cabin," he whispered. CHAPTER XXXIV JACK'S GREAT FIND For a moment the boys stood still, contemplating the small log building, which was now but dimly visible. All was silent about it. There was no sign of life. Was it occupied? Was Jack's father there? These were questions that flashed through the mind of the two lads as they stood there in the darkness. Then Jack, with a long-drawn breath, that showed how great was the strain on him, whispered: "Let's see if any one is there." Cautiously they moved forward, stopping every now and then to listen. But no sound came to them. The cabin remained as dark and as silent as when they first saw it. Foot by foot they moved nearer, until Jack was so close he could put out his hand and touch the door. He knocked loudly, and the echo sounded almost like thunder in the quiet night- enshrouded valley. But no answer came, though the boys waited several minutes. Then Jack pushed on the door. It opened, with a squeaking of hinges that must have alarmed any occupant, unless deaf. No challenge came, and the two lads stepped inside. "Look out where you're going," said Nat. "Hold your hands in front of you, and feel with your feet. You may tumble down a hole." Jack did as directed, and, a moment later, his outstretched hand knocked over something that fell with a crash to the floor. "What's that?" exclaimed Nat, in a startled whisper. "Candlestick and candle," replied Jack, as he stooped down and picked up what he had knocked down. "Matches too," he added, as he found them scattered over the floor. An instant later he had struck a light, and in the gleam of the tallow dip the boys saw they were inside a comfortably furnished cabin. It consisted of two rooms, one a sort of kitchen and general sitting apartment, and the other a bedroom, with two bunks against the wall. There was a rough table, a few chairs and a fireplace. Cooking utensils scattered about, and the appearance of the bunk room, showed it had been lately occupied. "I wonder if my father could have lived here," Jack remarked. "Where can he have gone to? Perhaps he is dead." "Must have been some one here recently," said Nat. "That food looks fresh." He pointed to some roast beef on the table, and to some slices of bread. "It looks good enough to eat," Jack said, "and I'm going to tackle it, for I'm as hungry as a bear, and cold, too," for the ducking was beginning to tell on him.