sed itself like a spring--and to the eyes of the three wolf hunters
was revealed the secret of the skeleton hand.

Spread out before them was a map, or at least what they at once accepted
as a map, though in reality it was more of a crude diagram of straight
and crooked lines, with here and there a partly obliterated word to give
it meaning. In several places there were mere evidences of words, now
entirely illegible. But what first held the attention of Rod and his
companions were several lines in writing under the rough sketch on the
bark, still quite plain, which formed the names of three men. Roderick
read them aloud.

"John Ball, Henri Langlois, Peter Plante."

Through the name of John Ball had been drawn a broad black line which
had almost destroyed the letters, and at the end of this line, in
brackets, was printed a word in French which Wabi quickly translated.

"Dead!" he breathed. "The Frenchmen killed him!"

The words shot from him in hot excitement.

Rod did not reply. Slowly he drew a trembling finger over the map. The
first word he encountered was unintelligible. Of the next he could only
make out one letter, which gave him no clue. Evidently the map had been
made with a different and less durable substance than that with which
the names had been written. He followed down the first straight black
line, and where this formed a junction with a wider crooked line were
two words quite distinct:

"Second waterfall."

Half an inch below this Rod could make out the letters T, D and L,
widely scattered.

"That's the third waterfall," he exclaimed eagerly.

At this point the crude lines of the diagram stopped, and immediately
below, between the map and the three names, it was evident that there
had been considerable writing. But not a word of it could the young
hunters make out. That writing, without doubt, had given the key to the
lost gold. Rod looked up, his face betraying the keenness of his
disappointment. He knew that under his hand he held all that was left of
the secret of a great treasure. But he was more baffled than ever.
Somewhere in this vast desolation there were three waterfalls, and
somewhere near the third waterfall the Englishman and the two Frenchmen
had found their gold. That was all he knew. He had not found a waterfall
in the chasm; they had not discovered one in all their trapping and
hunting excursions.

Wabi was looking down into his face in silent thought. Suddenly he
reached