ave
place to a sudden weariness, and he dropped like a stone on the spot
where it overcame him.

As the morning rose, clear and bright, a company of horsemen, riding in
single file toward a distant pass, came upon a prostrate, nearly naked
figure lying in their path. The horsemen were Ute Indians, and like many
of their white brothers, were prospecting for gold. All sorts of
precious metals were to be found in these Rocky mountains, and were
their own rightful inheritance. They were peaceably inclined to share
and share alike with the pale faces. For years there had been friendship
between them and the red men had learned many things from the white. Not
the least had been this craving for gold; and where once they would have
toiled only in the chase, to shoot and kill the game with which the
mountains abounded, they now longed for the glittering stones hidden
within them.

But they were in no haste. The gold was hidden--it would keep, and they
had ridden all night long. So, at sight of poor Jim, lying motionless,
they dismounted and discussed him.

"He is dead," said the foremost, in his own tongue which, of course, the
lad would not have understood, even if he had heard.

Another stooped down and turned the boy's face upward. It was scratched
with the underbrush through which he had made his way and the light
garments he wore were in shreds. His feet were swollen and bruised and
the bandages had been torn from his arm.

"Not dead. Might as well be. Heap bad," said another Indian, gravely
shaking his head.

There were four in the party and one of them filled a cup at a nearby
spring and dashed the water over the lad's face. His fit of exhaustion
was about over, anyway, and the shock of the ice-cold water revived him,
so that he opened his eyes and looked into the dark face bent above him.

But there was no intelligence in this look and presently his lids
drooped and he was once more oblivious to all about him.

The Indians held a consultation. Three were for going on, after they had
breakfasted, and leaving the vagrant to his fate. One was for giving
help and, being the leader of the party as well as a red-skinned "Good
Samaritan," his counsel prevailed.

When they resumed the trail, Jim Barlow was carried with them, very much
like a sack of meal across a saddle bow. But carried--not left to die.

When he again opened his eyes, and this time with consciousness in them,
he was in a small shanty, rude in the e