As the reader will have guessed by the rancher's remark, the searching party had encountered the tracks of the big grizzly in the course of their wanderings. Huge as were the monster's paws, there was no danger of mistaking them for those of any of his kindred. The fact that the huge brute was on that side of the range had proved a disturbing factor in the hunt for Rob Blake. It indicated another source of danger to the missing boy, aside from the peril of Indians, hunger and thirst, and many other dangers that he might have to face. Suddenly Mr. Harkness started up from the big hewn-oak chair in which he had flung himself, and sat up, listening intently. The others did the same, Blinky running to the window. "There's some one on a pony coming over the foothills like blazes bent for election!" he announced. "Wh-o is it?" demanded Mr. Harkness. "Can't make out. Doesn't ride like any of this outfit," said Blinky. "Maybe it's news of Rob," exclaimed Merritt. The same thought flamed up in the heart of each of the returned searchers. "It's an Indian!" cried Blinky suddenly. "How do you know?" "Can tell by his riding. I can see his blanket flapping out, too." "Perhaps he has news of the boy." "He knows something of importance; he wants to get here quick," was the cow-puncher's rejoinder. "He's spurring on that plug of his for all he's worth. Indians don't ride that hard unless they are in a hurry." Everybody was on their feet now, and by common consent a movement toward the door began. They had not long to wait before the rider galloped up, and drew rein so violently as to cast his mount back on its haunches. As Blinky had said, the newcomer was an Indian. He had evidently ridden long and hard. His pony's coat was covered with a coating of dust, and his blanket was whitened with the same stuff. The paint on his face was almost obliterated by the same substance. "How!" he exclaimed, gazing with a hawklike intensity into the ring of faces. "How!" said Mr. Harkness in the same manner. "Black Cloud!" he exclaimed the next instant, as the chief slipped from his pony. The chief nodded gravely, and then looked about him uneasily. He evidently did not like to be the centre of so many curious faces. Divining his thought, the rancher invited him inside, ordering one of the cow-punchers to take the chief's pony. "Has--has he news of Rob?" begged Merritt, pressing forward. "Now, see here, Merritt," said Mr. Harkness, not unkindly, "the way of an Indian is one of the wonders of the world. You leave him to me, and if he does know anything of the boy I'll get it out of him." Together the Indian chief and the rancher passed into the living room of the ranch house, and the door closed on them.