and then set out
to regain sight of Motoza, which task proved more difficult than he
expected. The fellow had vanished, and it was impossible to tell whither
he had gone. The rocky surface left no trail which even an Apache could
follow, and it only remained for the cowman to fall back upon what may
be called general principles.

The experience of the cowman was another illustration of how much
depends in this world on what is called chance.

Jack Dudley, without any preliminary training in woodcraft, discovered
Motoza as he emerged from the canyon, while the veteran of the West,
skilled in all the ways of his venturesome life, spent hours in looking
for the Sioux without obtaining the first glimpse of him. That he missed
him by a margin that could not have been narrower was a fact; but "a
miss is as good as a mile," and the autumn afternoon drew to a close
without the first glimmer of success on his part. He had gone so far,
even, as to visit a distant camp-fire, whose smoke still faintly showed
against the clear sky, but failed to see a living person.

He was on the point of giving over his quest, when the unexpected
happened. Within a few hundred yards of the break in the canyon he
caught sight of Motoza and Tozer holding another consultation. They had
evidently just met, and the configuration of the ground enabled
Hazletine to steal near enough to catch some of the words spoken by the
couple.

The two were standing face to face, and their actions were peculiar.
Motoza was in the act of handing his Winchester rifle to Tozer, who,
accepting the weapon, turned it over and examined it with interest.
Since he could not speak the Sioux he used the English language, of
which, as will be remembered, Motoza possessed a fair knowledge.

"You're lucky," he said; "the gun is worth more than yours. So you made
a trade with the young man?"

"Yes--me trade," replied the Sioux, his painted face relaxing with the
grin that had become almost chronic.

"I don't s'pose he made any objection--that is, he gave you his gun
without making a kick?"

The Sioux nodded his head and still grinned, Tozer joining him in the
last expression of his feelings.

"How about his revolver?"

"He gib me that," said the scamp, drawing forth the handsome weapon,
where Hazletine had not observed it, thrust into the girdle about his
waist.

There was no mistaking the meaning of these words and proceedings. All
doubt was removed as to the abduc