As the strangers drew rapidly nearer he began to make out their "style" for the night was not intensely dark. And somehow Frank's curiosity increased in bounds. He discovered no signs of the customary cowboy outfit about them. They wore garments that savored of civilization, and sat their horses with the air of men accustomed to much riding. "Hold hard there, strangers; or you'll be riding us down!" Frank sang out, as the newcomers loomed up close at hand. At that the others drew rein, and brought their horses to a halt. Bending low in the saddle they seemed to be peering at the dimly-seen figures of the two boys. "Who is it--speak quick!" one of the strangers said; and Frank believed he heard a suspicious click accompanying the thrilling words. "Two boys bound for Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon," he answered, not wishing to take any unnecessary chances. "Where from, and what's your names?" continued the other, in his commanding voice, that somehow told Frank he must be one accustomed to demanding obedience. The ranch boy no longer felt any uneasiness. He believed that these men were not to be feared. "I am the son of Colonel Haywood, owner of the Circle Ranch; and this is my chum, Bob Archer, a Kentucky boy," he said, boldly. Then the other man, who as yet had not spoken, took occasion to remark: "'Taint them, after all, Stanwix! Perhaps we've been following the wrong trail." The name gave Frank an idea. He had heard more or less about the doings of a sheriff in a neighboring county, called Yavapai, and his name was the same as that mentioned by the second dimly seen rider. "Are you gentlemen from Prescott?" he asked. "That's where I hold out when I'm home," replied the one who had asked about their identity. "Are you Sheriff Stanwix?" pursued the boy, while his companion almost held his breath in suspense. "I am; and this is Hand, who holds the same office in this county of Coconino," replied the other, as he threw a leg over his saddle as though about to dismount. Both of them joined the boys, leaving their horses to stand with the bridles thrown over their heads, cowboy fashion. Frank meanwhile had picked up some small fuel, and thrown it on the still smouldering fire. It immediately started up into a blaze that continued to increase. They could now see that their visitors were two keen-eyed men. The evidence of their calling lay in the stars that decorated their left breasts. Both looked as though they could hold their own against odds. And of course they were armed as became their dangerous profession. Bob was especially interested. He had never really had anything to do with an officer of the law; and surveyed the pair with all the ardor of boyish curiosity. To see one sheriff was a treat; but to have two drop down upon them after this fashion must be an event worth remembering.