"Yes, yes," assented Mrs. Dickson eagerly. "You went on the trip while I was away to Sacramento City and you told me all about it, when I got back. Queer how things do turn out!" "And so Stackpole really found the cave at last; but at the cost of his life," and Dickson's face saddened. "Too bad!--I mean his murder; for he was a good sort of a fellow, when he was away from liquor, but, let him get a little whiskey down him, and he was as ugly as the devil. I reckon that it was drink that drove him out of the army in disgrace; and I reckon it was drink that caused his murder; for he was a very cautious man and would have said nothing about his discovering the Cave of Gold, especially to strangers, if he had been in his right senses--Can I, can I see that map?" and Dickson's face suddenly lighted up. "Possibly I know the place." "Sure," and Mr. Conroyal turned to Thure. "Get out the map, Thure." Thure's face reddened a little, but, turning his back to Mrs. Dickson, he quickly, with the aid of his knife, ripped open the bosom of his shirt, and, pulling out the map, handed it to his father, who at once spread it out on the table in front of Dickson. "Lot's Canyon!" Dickson cried excitedly, almost the moment his eyes fell on the map. "Why, that's the very name we gave the canyon where we tried to find the hidden gulch, on account of a white pillar of rock, that Stackpole said might have been Lot's wife. And here is the very pillar itself!" and he pointed to the little square on the map marked Lot's Wife. "And the Big Tree! And the Devil's Slide! And Goose Neck Lake! Every one of them names that we gave to places! I am sure that that is the same canyon that Stackpole searched for the Cave of Gold when I was with him," and Dickson turned an excited face to Mr. Conroyal. "It's about a five days' tramp from here." "That's what the dying miner said," broke in Bud eagerly. "And do you think you can find that canyon again?" asked Mr. Conroyal anxiously. "The trail on the map is none too clear; and I reckon we'd have to do some hunting before we found it, with only the map to guide us." "I am sure I can," answered Dickson, his eyes still on the map. "Well, then, we are in great luck," declared Mr. Conroyal. "I--Jumping grasshoppers, if we are not forgetting all about that polite note!" he exclaimed, as his eyes happened suddenly to fall on the dagger and the bit of paper, which, during all this time, had lain on the table neglected. "Now, what shall we do about that?" and his eyes flashed around the circle of faces. "Let's first see if the string is really there," proposed Thure. "Good idee," and Ham caught up the candle and started for the door, followed by all the others, Thure and Bud at his heels.