With Digby Fordham he had taken many short trips around Silver Run; but they had seldom encountered big game or gone many miles from their home. This trip to Grub Stake was by far the longest the chums had ever taken alone. It was Chet’s trained eye that discovered the fact that a marauder other than the wolves had been at their camp. Had it been left to Dig, who was not observant, the presence of any other enemy than that which had annoyed them in the evening probably would never have been discovered. “Could it have been those Indians, Chet?” asked Dig, as his chum bent to examine the ground closely. “What Indians?” “John Peep’s dog soldiers.” “Nonsense! Those boys wouldn’t play us such a trick. Nor did they follow us.” “Huh! Didn’t know that anybody else was following us,” said Dig. “Perhaps this fellow wasn’t on our trail. Maybe he stumbled on this camp. The fire—or the wolves themselves—might have drawn him.” Chet was thinking hard, however. At once, when he had discovered the footprint which proclaimed a white marauder, he remembered what Amoshee, the lame Cheyenne boy, had told him. There was a strange man who was interested in the old Crayton mine and therefore was interested in this trip to Grub Stake. This stranger had joined forces with the discharged Tony Traddles. Chet had heard Tony himself threaten Mr. Havens and declare he would “get square” with his former employer. Chet looked at the print of the large boot in the soft soil. Tony Traddles might stand in boots like that. And if Tony was here, the man who was trying to get hold of the old Crayton mine was very likely here, too. The condition looked serious to Chet Havens. He did not want to say anything yet to his chum; but he did propose to keep a sharp watch thereafter. He was desirous, too, of learning all he could about the midnight marauder. If the mysterious person had stolen only some of the deer meat, why had he taken it? And if he had come as near the camp as this, why hadn’t he come nearer? “With both of us sound asleep,” thought Chet, with disgust, “they might have come in and taken anything they liked. It puzzles me!” He placed his hand upon the bosom of his shirt and could feel the stiff packet of papers he carried in its accustomed place. His apprehension was immediately relieved. “Pshaw!” Chet muttered. “This might not have been Tony or that other fellow at all. Just some tramp or the like on the trail, who was attracted to our camp. Probably needed meat and helped himself. “But it was funny he didn’t wait till daylight and come and ask for it.” While he was turning these thoughts over in his mind he was moving through the thicket, turning aside bushes, looking under bunches of grass, peering here and there, to trace the tracks of the stranger.