here. Its banks were marshy with a wide spread of oozy soil,
and miry reeds grew in abundance. The trail cut well away from the bed
of the creek, mounting the higher land where the soil, in curious
contrast, was sandy, and the surface deep in a silvery dust. To an
observer the curiosity of the contrast must have been striking, but
Wild Bill was not in an observant mood. He was busy with his
horses--and his thoughts.

He was traveling now in a cloud of dust. And it was this, no doubt,
which accounted for the fact that he did not see a buckboard drawn by
an aged mule until he heard a shout, and his horses swung off the
trail of their own accord. Quick as lightning he drew them up with a
violent curse.

"What in hell--!" he roared. But he broke off suddenly as the dust
began to clear, and he saw the yellow-headed figure of Scipio seated
in the buckboard, with Vada beside him, just abreast of him.

"Mackinaw!" he cried. "What you doin' out here?"

So startled was the gambler at the unexpected vision that he made no
attempt to even guess at Scipio's purpose. He put his question without
another thought behind it.

Scipio, whose mule had jumped at the opportunity of discontinuing its
laborious effort, and was already reaching out at the grass lining the
trail, passed a hand across his brow before answering. It was as
though he were trying to fix in his mind the reason of his own
presence there.

"Why," he said hesitatingly, "why, I'm out after a--a prospect I heard
of. Want to get a peek at it."

The latter was said with more assurance, and he smiled vaguely into
his friend's face.

But Bill had gathered his scattered wits, and had had time to think.
He nodded at little Vada, who was interestedly staring at the satin
coats of his horses.

"An' you takin' her out to help you locate it?" he inquired, with a
raising of his shaggy brows.

"Not just that," Scipio responded uncomfortably. He found it curiously
difficult to lie with Bill's steady eyes fixed on him. "Y'see--Say, am
I near ten miles out from the camp?"

"Not by three miles." Bill was watching him intently. He saw the pale
eyes turn away and glance half fearfully along the trail. Then they
suddenly came back, and Scipio gazed at the child beside him. He
sighed and lifted his reins.

"Guess I'll get on then," he said in the dogged tone of a man who has
made up his mind to an unpleasant task.

But Bill had no intention of letting him go yet. He sat back