rls behind him when Mike held up a warning hand.

Every one looked at him to see what he had discovered. He grunted
unpleasantly, and slid from his horse. He sprawled out on the ground and
placed his ear close to the earth. Every one sat still, waiting to hear
the report, or cause, of this unusual behavior.

The Indian listened attentively for a time, then got up and examined the
trail along Top Notch, as far back as the blazed tree. There he placed
his ear to the ground again, and listened for a longer time than at
first. Then he got up slowly and crept about examining the bushes, the
broken twigs, rocks, and even the grass.

The girls watched him with intense interest, as Polly had told them of
the wonderful scouting instinct Mike possessed, and now they were going
to have it demonstrated to them. Having satisfied himself, Mike came
over to Mr. Brewster and announced, abruptly:

"Tree miner gone aleddy--two tenderfut comin'."

"Three up there already! By the Great Horned Spoon! how did they do it?"
cried Sam Brewster, aghast at the idea that perhaps they would have
trouble when they reached Polly's mine.

"Maybe the three gone on ahead have no idea that we found gold up there.
Maybe they are after pelts, or some other thing," said Anne Stewart.

Mike grinned complacently, for he had spoken.

"How do you know those three are miners, Mike?" asked Polly.

The Indian pointed to the ground where an imprint of a miner's boot was
plainly seen. Only the miners at Oak Creek wore such spiked heels, the
ranchers and other citizens being satisfied with heavy leather soles.
The foot-print pointed towards the Slide--not away from it.

"That's only one, Mike, and you said there were three!" exclaimed Anne,
triumphantly.

"Tree hoss go by--see." Mike pointed out three different kinds of
horse-shoe imprints.

"One hoss carry pack an' go lame. Two hoss all light."

"How do you know he is lame--and maybe he isn't packed," Eleanor said.

Mike sniffed derisively, and pointed at the lighter impression of one
hind foot. Then he showed his admiring audience how a slight rip in a
flour-sack allowed the contents to trickle down upon the ground at each
limp the lame horse gave.

Mike now said to Mr. Brewster: "Dem go slow--lame hoss no go fas', mebbe
jus' ahead."

"If we ride on we can catch up with them!" eagerly exclaimed Anne.

Mike shook his head and lifted a finger for silence. Then the girls
heard a faint clip-clop of