"The first thing to do, younker, is to find Motoza; that's what I'm going to do. You can't stand it to be alone with yourself, so you can come with me, though I hain't no idee that you'll be able to give any help." "I hope I shall; though, if you think there is more chance of success in making the hunt alone, I'll do the same." Hank was silent a moment, as if considering the matter, but he quickly added: "Come along. But how about breakfast?" "I haven't the least appetite." "I thought so by your looks," he said, sympathizingly. "I'm blamed sorry fur you, and hope your appetite will soon come back to you." "It will as soon as we find Fred," said Jack, with a faint smile; "but what about yourself?" "It's all the same; if we had meat here I'd cook and eat it; but I'm willing to go a day or two, if I haven't the time to take any meals." "That's strange!" broke in Jack; "yonder comes a white man; he must be one of your acquaintances, though I never saw him before." Hazletine turned round in surprise. A tall white man, dressed as a cowboy, with long dangling yellow hair and a thin mustache and goatee, and with rifle slung over his shoulder, had appeared on the further side of the plateau, and was approaching the couple at a deliberate pace. "Wal, I'm hanged!" exclaimed Hazletine; "if there isn't Bill Tozer! He's the last man I expected to meet in these parts." These words did not bring Jack Dudley much enlightenment, but he felt no special curiosity concerning the individual, and silently waited till he came up. The youth judged from the manner of the guide, however, that he was not overly pleased with the new arrival, whose countenance was not attractive. Nevertheless, the two shook hands with seeming cordiality, and the new-comer looked inquiringly at Jack. "This is a friend of mine, Bill, that I took out on a hunt t'other day with another younker; Jack Dudley, Bill Tozer." "Glad to know you," said the man heartily; "I see you're a tenderfoot." "Yes," replied Jack; "less than two weeks ago I had never set foot in Wyoming." "Wal, now that's funny; you'll like the country after you get used to it." "Would to heaven I had never seen it!" was the bitter exclamation of the youth, hardly able to keep back his tears. "Sorry to hear that, my young friend; but cheer up; it'll come out all right." It struck Jack that this was a singular remark for the man to make, for it sounded as if he knew the cause of Jack's emotion; but before the boy could seek enlightenment the man made a more extraordinary remark: "You'll excuse us for a few minutes, my young friend; I've some words to say in private to Hank." "Certainly," replied Jack, turning on his heel and walking beyond earshot. He gave the men no further attention, for he did not suspect the new-comer had anything to impart of interest to him. The boy felt more like resenting this interference with the momentous business he and the guide had on hand.