But he got no further than the end of the first verse when the words suddenly died on his lips; he reined in his mule and turned to Jim. “We seem to have found their trail, and they seem to be going in toward the valley; do you see that?” he said. “I noticed,” answered Jim laconically. The Missourian dismounted and examined the signs which had compelled his attention. His examination was brief, however, and when he settled himself in the saddle again, he said quietly: “It's them all right. You and me's got company ahead of us, Jim.” “They got plenty start of us,” said Jim, moving restlessly in his saddle. “That's so, these signs are all of a week old. We dassent take any chances trying to find another road into the valley.” “Scarcely,” said Jim, with a vague, uneasy smile. An hour later they came upon a spot where the party preceding them had evidently camped, for the ground was trampled and bare where their horses had been picketed. Here, too, were a variety of bulky articles of comparatively small value. “They seem to have been getting shut of a good deal of their stuff heah,” was the Missourian's comment. “We know how that goes,” said Jim. “I reckon they was sort of dividing up their plunder, and chucked out what they didn't think worth toting farther; for you see this couldn't well have been a night camp. I 'low they must have halted heah about midday. You notice their hosses was picketed close, not turned out to graze; if it had been a night camp, a party this size would have let their stock range, because there was plenty of them to herd it through the night.” From this point on, for perhaps a mile, the signs were quite plain, and then the party appeared to have broken up; one well-marked trail led off to the south; another kept on toward the west; but presently this, too, turned into a branching pass and was lost. “Humph!” said the Missourian. “Those was mostly the shod hosses; pretty singular, ain't it?” But it was evident that both he and Jim experienced a sense of positive relief. All that morning they had toiled through the mountains; but toward the middle of the afternoon they emerged upon a high ridge; here there was good grass and a scattering growth of small timber. They crossed the ridge and descending found themselves in a fertile, well-watered valley. “We'll camp heah,” said the Missourian, with a sweeping gesture. “Yonder, by that thicket—a stream heads there.” As they neared the spot he had designated, Jim, who was riding a pace or two in advance and to his right, all at once swung around his long rifle. But the Missourian threw up his hand in protest. “Don't shoot, Jim!” he called, urging his mule into a shuffling trot.