The stream had subsided, so he had no trouble in fording it a little above where the bridge had been. Every vestige of vegetable growth was swept away, leaving the scene but a waste of rocks, and he could now look up the defile even to where the ruined dam stood out like a skeleton of rock. Little Snap stopped for several minutes to gaze upon the sight, but he was about to move on, knowing that he had already lost so much time that he would be a couple of hours late, when a dark object, suspended from the branches of a tree on the mountainside above the reach of the flood, caught his attention. Riding a little nearer to it, he saw that it was a man's coat. "Is it possible some one was in the valley above here at the time?" he exclaimed. "Stand where you are, Tom, and I will get it." With considerable hard climbing, he gained a position from which he secured the coat. It was a blue jean jacket, looking the worse for wear. "No great loss to the owner nor prize to me," he thought, as he returned to the side of his horse. "But it has a decidedly familiar look. I wonder if there is anything in its pockets to tell the owner's name?" Beginning an investigation, he quickly drew forth a sheet of paper, which, from its crumpled condition, showed that it had been thrust away hastily. Smoothing it out as best he could, he saw that one side was written over in a coarse, sprawling hand. He easily read, while a look of anxiety came over his features: "SIRS: Why is it you do not act more promptly and effectively? This delay is dangerous, and I am not going to brook it any longer. It puts every man of us in double the danger we should risk in quick, decisive action. I am going away for a few days, and I shall expect this work to have been finished before I get back. Look sharp, then, and get that route clear. We have fooled with that boy too long already." There was no address nor signature to this obscure message, while the writing was in a hand unknown to Little Snap. He read it over several times, and then examined the coat more closely. No other paper was found, but when he had finished his survey of the garment he exclaimed: "I have seen that jacket before, I am sure. I have it! It was on Pewee Burrnock's back! "How about this letter. It is evident I am the one that is meant. Ha! I have a clew in regard to that, though I never saw that handwriting before. It looks as if the writer was trying to disguise his hand. That paper is just like that Mr. Rimmon and Mr. Warfield used in making out my bail, but I don't know which furnished it." The hoof strokes of a horse caused the postboy to look up, when he discovered a horseman approaching from the direction of Salt Works. A second look showed him that it was Austin Goings. "I hoped I had seen the last of him. But I don't believe I will let him see this coat."