like the one we met; then perhaps a hungry
panther might take a notion to tackle you. I knew a cowman who had
that happen to him. Yes, and perhaps you heard him tell the story."

"You must mean Ike Lasker," Bob replied, quickly. "Yes, I remember how
he said he was lying down, waiting for some feeding deer off to
windward to work closer, when, all of a sudden, something struck him on
the back, and nearly knocked the wind out of him for keeps. He managed
to get his knife out, and they had it there, good and hard."

"Ike said he nearly cashed in his checks that time," Frank added.
"Some of his mates found him, after they discovered his horse feeding
near by. The panther was dead as a stone, and Ike was clawed and bit
till he looked like a map of the delta of the Mississippi--anyhow,
that's the way he told it. Keep your shooter handy, too, Bob."

"I will that," returned the Kentucky boy, impressed by his chum's
earnestness.

After a little while Frank came back again. His manner told that he
was quite satisfied with what he had done.

"A sharp-eyed trailer might find where we left the canyon," he
admitted; "but I don't believe any ordinary fellow would notice the
marks. So I think our horses stand a first class chance of being here
when we come back for 'em."

Bob got on his feet.

"I've fixed up some grub, just as you told me," he remarked. "It isn't
much, but ought to serve in a pinch."

"And as it's nearly noon now," observed Frank. "Why not take a snack
before we leave our base of supplies? Let's get the stuff out of the
cache again, and have a round of bites."

"I don't see the use of hurrying away from here right now, anyhow," Bob
remarked, while they were eating.

"You mean," said Frank, "that we only came here to see what we could
find out about the secret of old Thunder Mountain, and why it kicks up
such a rumpus every little while?"

"Yes, and seems to me that since we're right on the ground now, we
might just as well start business, here," Bob asserted.

"That is, hang around until night, and wait to see if the grinding
begins again, as it did when we were in camp below?"

"We'd be in a position to guess what it was, better than before," Bob
went on.

"That's a fact," laughed Frank. "And if, as lots of people think, this
old mountain is a played-out volcano, perhaps we might even smell the
sulphur cooking, by sticking our noses down into some of these crevices
in the rocks."

"Now