scraped the spokes against this projecting rock. Look at the blue paint
it left on the rock."

"Blue paint!" I cried. "Joe, Yetmore's cart was painted blue! I remember
it very well. A very strongly-built cart, as it had to be to scramble up
those rough roads that lead to the mines, painted blue with black
trimmings. Joe, I begin to believe this is the ore-thief, after all."

"It does look like it. But where was he going? Not down to the smelter
at San Remo, surely."

"Not he," I replied. "He would know better than that. The smelter has
undoubtedly been notified of the robbery by this time, and the character
of the Pelican tellurium is so well known that any one offering any of
it for sale would have to give a very clear story as to how he came by
it. No; this fellow will have to hide or bury the ore and leave it lying
till he thinks the robbery is forgotten; and even then he will probably
have to dispose of it at a distance in small lots or broken up very fine
and mixed with other ore."

"In that case," said Joe, "we shall find his trail leaving the road
again on one side or the other."

"I expect so. We'll keep a lookout. But come on, now, Joe: we mustn't
delay any longer."

The road had been traveled over by several vehicles since last night,
and the trail of the cart was undistinguishable with any certainty until
we had passed the point where the highway branched off to the right to
go down to San Remo; after which it appeared again, apparently headed
straight for the ranch.

"Do you suppose he can have crossed our valley, Phil?" asked my
companion.

"No, I expect not," I replied. "Keep your eyes open; we shall find the
tracks going off to one side or the other pretty soon--to the left most
likely, for the best hiding-places would be up in the mountains."

Sure enough, after traversing a bare, rocky stretch of road, we found
that the tracks no longer showed ahead of us. The man had taken
advantage of the hard ground to turn off. Pulling up our ponies, we both
jumped to the ground once more, and going back a short distance, we made
a cast on the western side of the road. In a few minutes Joe called out:

"Here we are, Phil! See! The wheel touched the edge of this little sandy
spot, and if you look ahead about forty yards you'll see where it ran
over an ant-hill. It seems as though he were heading for our canyon. Do
you think that's likely?"

"Yes," I replied. "I think it is very likely. There is one plac