Both men had been so intent upon their search, that they had scarcely noticed the gradual darkening of the sky, warning them of an approaching storm. It was not until they actually felt the drops upon their faces that they were aware that it was raining. “There isn’t a chance of any shelter, I’m afraid,” said Bob, gloomily. “And it will soon be too dark to see anything. Hadn’t we better turn back? The girls may be safe at camp now.” “No, I don’t mean to give up till our food’s all gone,” replied Kirk, firmly. “Think if they should be out here alone all night--without a bite to eat! No, you can turn back if you want to, but I’m going on.” Unwilling to desert his companion, Bob too pressed steadily onward, but with little hope of success in his heart. It was only when they suddenly spied a little cabin through the increasing grayness, that he began to feel more cheerful. “Perhaps they have found shelter there!” he cried. “At any rate we can stay there till the worst of the storm is over.” Upon examination, the small, wooden building proved to be as deserted as those near the mine shafts which they had passed on the first day of their trip. A rough fire-place, a wooden bench, and a shelf on one side were its only furnishings. Both boys sat down wearily upon the bench, for they were worn out with worry and with the severity of the climb. Both were hungry, too; but it seemed awful to them to think of eating when Marjorie and Daisy were probably almost starving. “One thing good,” remarked Bob, as he looked about the cabin, “both these girls are good sports. They’re not the kind to wring their hands and go into hysterics. And they’re both good horsewomen.” “Yes, that’s certainly true,” said Kirk. “You like them both pretty well, don’t you Kirk?” asked Bob, in a lighter tone. “Especially Marj?” “Yes, I like them both, as well as any girls,” answered his companion, wearily. “But I can’t say I like either better than the other.” The conversation was abruptly interrupted by a continued knocking at the heavy wooden door of the cabin. The sound was not loud, but regular. “What’s that?” demanded Bob. “Funny, if, it’s a person, that he doesn’t walk in!” “He probably expects to find the cabin inhabited,” remarked Kirk. “Well, I’ll open the door, anyhow, and see!” Bob jumped up and started for the door. “Wait!” commanded Kirk, quietly. “Let’s be prepared! This intruder might be an unpleasant sort of person--might even be Indians.” He drew his revolver from the holster on his hip. “Now I’m ready! Go ahead, but get back of the door when you open it.” Bob touched the bolt cautiously, half hoping that some thrilling adventure might ensue. It would at least take their minds temporarily away from the worry which they felt for the lost girls.