But when he went to the spring for water, he gave a cry of dismay. In the soft ground by the spring basin was a footprint exactly like that they had traced so painfully in the other valley. Chapter XV The Telltale Thumb-Print More serious than ever was the ranger's face when Charley showed him the telltale footprint. "It's bad!" he said. "Altogether bad! He's as cunning as a rat, that Bill Collins. But how he could ever discover a camp so well concealed as this one is, I don't know." And with that the ranger fell into a brown study. Lew and Charley went on rapidly with their preparations for supper. "Here," called the ranger, noticing what they were about. "Mr. Marlin sent this to you. I almost forgot about it." He reached into the capacious inner pocket of the hunting-coat he wore and drew forth a bulky package. "Beefsteak!" cried Charley, opening the package. "Oh boy! And enough for two meals. We're certainly obliged to you and Mr. Marlin both." Meantime, the pup, neglected, fawned upon them and began to whine, when suddenly the ranger cried out, "I've got it. It was the pup." "The pup?" echoed Charley. "What about the pup?" "Why, it was the pup that betrayed the camp. In some way those men got within hearing or smelling distance of this place, and the pup must have barked or whined. You know how a lonely dog will howl and carry on. I'm sorry, but I guess that pup will have to go, Charley." Charley's face expressed almost as much mental agony as the pup's whine had shown, though he said nothing. The ranger, looking up, caught the expression, however, and understood. He knew how lonely it would be for Charley after Lew returned to Central City. "The harm's already done," he continued, "and I suppose it never does any good to lock the stable after the horse is gone. You may keep your pup, Charley; but I do wish he was a dumb brute in fact as well as in name." "I can train him to be quiet," said Charley eagerly. "I trained Judge Gordon's dogs to hunt and I can train this little fellow not to make a noise. If I could keep him, sir, I'd be mighty glad. He'll be a lot of company." "Keep your dog, noise or no noise," said the kindly ranger with determination. "If you can really train him well, he'll do us a thousand times more good than he does harm. Now that I know Bill Collins is in these woods, I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone. You train that dog as fast as you can. Train him to warn you of the approach of strangers, and train him to fight, too--and to fight hard."