“By the last hoptoad that was chased out of Ireland” ejaculated Digby Fordham. “I’m not going to stick my head into a bear’s lair. Friendship is all right, and fly-paper is no stickier than I am when it comes to being chums with a fellow; but don’t you think this is asking a deal too much?” and Dig looked up at his chum with a very queer look on his face. “Hush up and come on!” exclaimed Chet. “If John Peep isn’t scared, we can’t afford to be.” “Why not?” demanded Dig. “Because, in all likelihood, he thinks we are a couple of cowards—” “Whew! After what you did for him?” “Pshaw!” said Chet. “I helped him out of trouble, yes. But I didn’t get into a particle of danger myself—you know that.” “I don’t see why that Indian should have a poor opinion of us,” growled Digby. “Well, he has that air. He’s different from us,” said Chet, puzzled himself to explain just what he meant. “But, you see, he acts like a grown man, while we’re only a couple of kids.” “Whew!” ejaculated Dig again, and with an air of doubting his chum’s statement. All this had been said in too low a tone to reach the ears of John Peep, who was some distance ahead of the white boys. Now Chet quickened his steps, and Dig came on, a little reluctantly. The trio was approaching a mass of piled rock which was a landmark from the valley ten or twelve miles below. It was some distance above the level of the plateau on which was the Crayton shaft opening. The beaten path was unmistakably an animal trail; but John Peep went right ahead, entirely unafraid. Secretly, Chet thought the path could not have been lately used by any of the species. And young Havens had something of much greater importance in his mind, too. He was vastly puzzled by John Peep’s behaviour. It seemed as though the young Indian must believe he could help them get at the miners entombed in the Silent Sue mine. Yet they were several miles from the claim of Chet’s father. The Indian boy’s seriousness had impressed Chet, however; the latter believed John to be quite incapable of playing them any trick, when he had himself been so recently saved from the landslide. Gratitude, if not humanity, would surely inspire John Peep. He knew the two white boys were much exercised over the situation of the men buried in the Silent Sue mine. He could not be cruel enough to play any trick upon them! They rounded a big boulder at the foot of the piled rocks, and there beheld the dark mouth of the bears’ den, low down on the ground. One had to get upon hands and knees to get into it. “Whew!” exploded Digby again. “Mebbe there aren’t any bears around, Chet; but I declare this is just the place for a lion. Remember that old scalawag we helped Rafe Peters to kill that time in Macomber’s wood-lot? Just such a place as this he had to hide in.” “There’s no smell of a lion about,” declared Chet, yet with some anxiety.