And Thure had good reasons for his pride and confidence in his comrades; for his father and Frank Holt, his uncle, and Hammer Jones and Rex and Dill and Mr. Randolph were all old trappers and hunters and Indian fighters, who had been tried by every form of peril and had never been found wanting. Indeed, the names of Hammer Jones and Noel Conroyal and Steeltrap Smith, as Frank Holt was once called, were still famous throughout all the Rocky Mountain region, for the deeds of daring and skill that had made them comrades in fame, as they often had been in fact, with trappers and Indian fighters like Kit Carson and Jim Bridger and Old Bill Williams and half-a-dozen other fearless men, whose courage and pluck and wonderful skill had made their names known wherever a campfire blazed throughout all the great West. Yes, Thure had good reasons to believe that Brokennose and Pockface, cunning as they were, would certainly have their hands full, if they got the skin map away from him, while he was watched by such men as these. "They'll have tew git all of us afore they git you, son," declared Ham, in reply to Thure's assertion. "Now," and he stretched his big frame and yawned, "seein' that we've 'tended tew all th' business that needs 'tendin' tew tew-night, we'd better try an' git a leetle more sleep afore mornin'. Leastwise I'm a-goin' tew," and, after a glance through the window to assure himself that everything was all safe and quiet around the Dickson house, he slipped a loaded pistol under his pillow and climbed into his bunk. Ham's advice, as usual, was too good to be neglected, and soon all were in their bunks. But, just before each had climbed into his bunk, he, like Ham, had slipped a loaded pistol under his pillow. They were not the kind of men to go unprepared when danger threatened. CHAPTER XVIII STORY OF THE GREAT DISCOVERY A cheery call from Mr. and Mrs. Dickson greeted our friends the next morning, as they started down the trail on their way to the wing dam. Both were in the best of spirits and did not appear to be bothering their heads in the least over their rather exciting and unfortunate adventure of the night before. Indeed, what could the burning of a log cabin more or less matter to a man who was digging out of the ground from five to ten thousand dollars' worth of gold a day! They were busily at work putting on a temporary roof in place of the one the fire had destroyed. "Lose much?" queried Ham sympathetically, as the little company came to a halt in front of the ruins.