The hotelkeeper looked bewildered. "Well," he said, "this is the only trail to the settlements, and they certainly haven't come back this way. It's mighty rough traveling through the bush, as you ought to know." Mr. Barclay smiled ruefully as he glanced down at his torn clothing and badly damaged boots. "That's a sure thing. Besides, they'd have their truck to pack along, which would make it more difficult. Those fellows generally bring a lot of odds and ends with them." "Oh, yes," assented the hotelkeeper. "Most of them have their slung baskets on poles. Anyway, I've no fault to find with them. They make no trouble." He walked off, and when Mr. Barclay and Mr. Oliver went out, Harry gave a triumphant glance at Frank. "Now," he said, "you see what our friend has found out without giving himself away. The question is, where do those Chinamen who don't stay with the gold-washing get to?" Frank laughed. "I expect Barclay could give you an answer. There's another thing he could probably guess at, and that's what they've got in some of those slung baskets." Then they moved back toward the lighted stove, for the rain drove against the frame walls and it was damp and chilly in the big bare room. CHAPTER XV A MIDNIGHT VISITOR It was getting dark when the boys retired to their room, in which two beds were standing at opposite corners. Harry chose the one nearest the door, and they left the window open. The room was, as usual in such places, very scantily furnished, but it appeared very comfortable after their camps in the dripping bush, and Frank found it a luxury to get his clothes off and lie down upon a comparatively soft mattress. A draught blew in at intervals through the window, and the door, which would not shut, swung to and fro. It was raining as hard as ever, for Frank could hear a muffled roar upon the shingled roof, and the pines outside were wailing dolefully. He soon went to sleep, however, but was awakened later by the sound of voices and a soft patter of feet below. The rain seemed to have stopped at last, though he could hear a heavy splashing from the branches of the firs close by, and he fancied that the Chinamen must be starting. There was, however, no sign of morning when he glanced toward the window, which showed only as a faintly lighter square in the surrounding obscurity. In fact, it seemed unusually dark, which struck him as curious, since there was a moon, but the hotel stood in a valley shrouded by giant trees and he supposed that the sky was thick with cloud.