am, where he quenched his
thirst. Then he brought out his slender stock of provisions and partook
of supper.

"It's pleasant to rest after a long day's ride," soliloquized Miles. "I
must have made forty miles to-day. I could easily have gone farther, had
it been on the prairies at home, but these mountain-roads are hard upon
man and beast."

After supper Miles threw himself upon the ground, and his mind became
busy with his plans and prospects.

"I shall reach Frisco in three days, according to my calculations," he
reflected; "and then, first of all, I must attend to Tom's commission.
That's a good boy, Tom. I wish he were here with me to-night. Why didn't
I urge him to come with me? He is not doing very well where he is, and
there are plenty of chances for a smart boy in the city. If I find any
opening for him, I will send for him. I don't know what gives me such an
interest in that boy, but I'd sooner do him a good turn than any man I
know. I hope that thief Crane won't play any trick upon him. If he does,
I swear I'll get even with him."

John Miles little suspected that he himself stood in more peril from the
man he denounced than our hero. Had he known that Bill Crane was lurking
in the vicinity, he would scarcely have courted slumber so fearlessly.

Physical fatigue and the stillness of outward nature speedily brought
on a feeling of drowsiness that was not long in bringing sleep. Twilight
had hardly given place to night when our traveller had become "to dumb
forgetfulness a prey."

This was what Bill Crane had been waiting for. He rightly calculated
that Miles would soon be asleep. He inferred this from his own feelings.
He, too, had travelled many miles, and felt drowsy; but, with the object
he had in view near accomplishment, he was able to resist the promptings
of nature.

Crane rode till he was but a few rods from Miles, then dismounted and
tethered his horse. With stealthy step he approached the sleeper. With
satisfaction he regarded the upturned face of the man whom, if waking,
he would have feared, and noted his deep, regular breathing.

"You wouldn't sleep so sound, John Miles," he said to himself, "if you
knew I was standing over you. How easily I could put a bullet into you!
But then I wouldn't have the satisfaction of anticipating your
disappointment when you wake up and find your treasure gone! No, you
may live. I have no use for your life, that is, if you don't wake up. In
that case, I may