ain that our hero
would keep silence touching his night-attempt at robbery. In the second
place, he still coveted the bag of gold-dust which John Miles carried
away with him. He had been prevented from taking it; but, as Miles was
travelling alone, he foresaw a better chance of success if he should
follow on his track.

How or under what circumstances he should make the new attempt he left
to be decided later. The first thing, obviously, was to overtake him.

Crane experienced the same difficulty in tracking Miles that had led to
the failure of his own pursuers. It was only on the fifth day, that, as
he halted his steed on the hillside, and cast long glances about him, he
caught sight, a mile away, of the object of his pursuit. He could not
mistake the sturdy, broad-shouldered figure, and large, massive head.

"That's Miles, sure enough!" he exclaimed, joyfully. "I thought I had
missed him, but I'm in luck. That bag must be mine."

The most direct course was to ride up in the fashion of a highwayman,
and demand the bag. But Crane did not mean to proceed in this fashion.
Physically, though not a weak man, he was not a match for Miles, and he
knew it. Cunning must supply the place of strength. He knew that Miles
was a sound sleeper, and could think of no better plan than repeating
the visit he had made in camp. It was already late in the afternoon when
he caught sight of the sturdy miner. It was his policy now to keep him
in sight, but not to approach near enough for recognition. Once seen,
Miles would be on his guard, and the game would be spoiled. Crane
halted, therefore, and drew back within the shadow of the trees,
henceforth advancing cautiously.

John Miles did not once turn back. Had he done so, it is quite possible
that he might have caught a glimpse of his pursuer. He had travelled
since morning, and his faithful horse was beginning to show signs of
fatigue.

"You are tired, my poor Dick," he said kindly, stroking the horse. "You
deserve supper and rest, and you shall have it."

Dick appeared to understand what his rider said, for he gave a short
neigh of satisfaction.

John Miles looked around him. Just ahead was a large tree, under whose
broad branches it would be pleasant to recline. Not far away was a
slender mountain-stream trickling over the rocks. Nothing could have
been better.

Miles slid from his horse and made preparations to encamp for the night,
first leading his faithful steed to the stre