aste they might, yet
slowly, by reason of the difficult going. The dog's cries guided them,
much to the surprise of Uncle Dick and the marshal, straight toward
Sandy Creek Falls, whither the first tracks of the outlaw and the girl
had led, and where they had been so mysteriously lost. As the three
scrambled up a steep ascent, scarcely a hundred yards from the
sand-bar, there came to their ears from the hound a high, melancholy
howl.

"It means that Jack is at fault, somehow," Brant explained in answer
to a grunt of inquiry from Uncle Dick. "Something puzzling him for a
minute."

The two listeners looked at each other with grave faces. Was it
possible, they wondered, that the hound would be baffled, even as they
had been, there at the pool? But their expression lightened the next
moment, for two sharp, harsh barks came from the dog, which was
evidently still in the neighborhood of the falls, and its master
interpreted:

"Jack's treed his game, sure's you're born!"

The three topped the ridge, and broke into a run down the slope, their
rifles at the ready. Within the minute, they leaped from the thicket
into the open place below the falls. Then, with one accord, they
stopped short and stood staring bewilderedly.

The hound continued its deep-chested baying. It stood erect on its
hind legs, almost to a man's height. It was supported by its fore-paws
extended as far up as they would reach against the wall of the
precipice, a little to the left of the waterfall. As it barked, the
dog held its muzzle pointed straight upward. There could be no doubt,
if the sensitiveness of the brute were to be relied on, that its
quarry had, in some incomprehensible fashion, contrived to mount the
sheer surface of the cliff. That the hound was sure, was made plain by
the rigidity of its posture, by the fierce, challenging ululations,
which pealed forth incessantly.

The three men went forward presently, their gaze wandering aloft from
the dog, over the inaccessible expanse of vertical cliffs. They came
down to the sand-bar, and followed it around the pool, still in
silence, and still with their puzzled eyes roving hither and yon for
some clue to understanding of this thing. But, of a sudden, Uncle Dick
shouted:

"I see how 'tis! I shorely kotch on. Looky thar!"

The marshal and Brant followed the direction of his pointing arm, but
they saw nothing to make the matter clear--only a tiny ledge, fifty
feet above them, along which grew