een ordered by Blake. The puncher had
brought them along, apparently with a hazy idea that the descent of
the canyon would be something on the order of mining. There were also
in the wagon two five-gallon kerosene cans to use in carrying water up
the mountain, a sack of oats, Gowan's saddle, and two packsaddles.

In shifting one of the packsaddles to get at the hammers, Blake
knocked it against the sack on which the lantern had been set. The
lantern suddenly fell over on its side. Blake reached in to pick it
up, and perceived that the sack was rising in a mound. He caught up
one of the hammers, and held it poised for a stroke. From the sack
came a muffled rattle. The hammer descended in a smashing blow.

The sack rose and fell as if something under it was squirming about
convulsively. But to Blake's surprise it did not fall aside and
disclose that which was making the violent movement. The squirming
lessened. He grasped an outer corner of the sack and jerked it upward.
It failed to flip into the air. The lower part sagged heavily. The
squirmer was inside and--the mouth of the sack was tied fast.

Blake looked at it thoughtfully. After some moments, he placed the
sack where it had lain at first, and upset the keg of spikes on top of
it. He then carefully examined Gowan's saddle; but it told him
nothing. He shook his head doubtfully, and returned to camp.

Going quietly around to Gowan, he set down the lantern close before
the puncher's face and stopped to light a cigar. Gowan stirred
restlessly and rolled half over, but did not open his eyes. Blake
smoked his cigar, extinguished the lantern, and quietly stretched out
on the edge of the sleeper's blankets. In a few moments he, too, was
asleep.

About two o'clock Gowan stirred and rolled over, pulling at his
blankets. Instantly Blake was wide awake. The puncher mumbled, drew
the blankets closer about him, and lay quiet. Blake went into the tent
and dozed on his own blankets until roused by the chill of dawn. He
went down for a plunge in the pool, and was dressed and back at the
fireplace, cooking breakfast, when Gowan started up out of his heavy
slumber.

"Yes, it's getting along about that time," Blake called to him
cheerfully. "You might turn out Ashton. He has made as good a night of
it as you have."

Gowan had been staring at the dawn, his lean jaw slack. As Blake
spoke, he snapped his mouth shut and came over to confront the
engineer. "You agreed to call me a