In the meanwhile the Survey party had progressed rapidly with its work, and on the afternoon following Roger's arrival at the hotel, they returned to the main camp. They thought it strange, as they rode in, that Roger should not have heard the horses' hoofs and come out to greet them, and Masseth felt a slight alarm lest the hurt to Roger's wrist should have proved more serious than was at first thought. On reaching the main tent, however, he saw a large piece of paper, held down by a stone. He picked it up. It was written, boy-like, as an official report, and read as follows: "MR. MASSETH: Sir, I regret to report that James, the teamster, has got sick, and will not bring any supplies this week. He sent word that there was a lot of supplies in camp, but I could not find them. A cowboy from Bar X Ranch brought word. I have taken burro and will try to cross Canyon to get supplies. I hope to be back Friday afternoon or evening. "R. DOUGHTY." "By the eternal jumping crickets!" was Masseth's first astonished exclamation. Then, calling to the cook, "George," he said, "come here a moment!" The cook came over and the chief handed him the letter. George read it through carefully twice, then handed it back. "I got a chance to get a long price for some pretty stale grub, and it looked to me like a good stunt. How was I goin' to know that bally chump of a teamster was plannin' to get sick?" "But the boy!" "It's sure tough on the boy. It's a beast of a trip, even if he's sure of the trail." "But he's only been over it once, and he could never remember that confusion of canyons." He turned sharply on the cook. "It's your fault," he said; "you ought to know better than to let yourself run out. It's never safe to go without some on hand for contingencies." The cook thought it wiser not to increase his superior's anger by replying, so went to the cooking tent to try to devise some sort of a meal from the remnants that had been brought from the side camp. As for Masseth, the more he thought of the situation the less likely did it seem that the boy could have found his way, but he could have struck water somewhere, so that perhaps search parties organized on the other side might have a chance of finding him, but every hour counted. He talked it over with the assistant. "Well," answered Black, "of course the dark's confusing, but with both of us watching the trail and knowing the landmarks, we can't get far astray. And we might drop across the lad. I'm ready to start any minute you say." Masseth thought for a moment, then pointed with his finger to the chasm. "I don't believe any of us would be comfortable to-night," he said, "knowing that the lad was down there, when for all we know he may be dying of starvation and the loneliness of desolation, just within our reach. A bite to eat, whatever there is, and then an immediate start."