arms, the two boys were in turn again astonished yet
gratified to behold--Nels Anderson. Accompanying this appearance came
the sounds of rapidly retreating steps as Murky, recognizing defeat,
made himself scarce as fast as he could. The three looked at each other,
grinning the while as they looked.

"Say, Mr. Anderson," began Paul, "it was bully of you to come, and you
still crippled in your arms!"

At a glance both saw that Nels, while active as ever in body and legs,
held his arms loosely, both hanging down at his sides.

"My arms no good," he began, "but I bane all right yet. Coom--ve look fer
dot feller."

He turned, diving through a side passage hitherto hidden from Paul and
Chip, while they, following, emerged into a recess where two gigantic
boulders, leaning together, made the shelter under which Murky had started
the fire that, flaring out into the darkness, had so puzzled the boys
before. Here Murky, becoming aware that someone was beyond him, had crept
up between rocks, listening when the boys arrived, and had sprung upon
them as has been described.

For half a minute Nels stood, glaring at the embers of the fire and around
to see what else might be there. But there was nothing, apparently, beyond
a few scraps of eatables and a remnant of wet tow sacking.

"Coom on!" shouted the big Swede. "We bane get nothin' here!" And he
darted off in the darkness towards where Murky's retreating steps had
last been heard. But nothing resulted except a trio of tired searchers
with deep mud on their legs and a sense that Murky had eluded them again.

"I don't see any signs of money round here," gloomily owned Paul, looking
about the rocky recess where Murky had been quartered but a short while
before. "It is dark as pitch everywhere else. One thing, Chip. I fancy we
got his grub, whatever he had left after eating."

"That's something," owned up Chip. "A feller can't git along much in these
woods unless he has something to fill his belly with."

Anderson, paying little heed to this, was staring into the fire, doubtless
thinking matters over. Chip picked up the tow-bagging, scanned it
closely and turned to Paul standing near. He pointed at a shred of the
bagging that, without being detached from the sack, had somehow caught a
small patch of greenish paper inside its loose clutch. Carefully Chip
picked out this, and handed it to Nels and Paul.

"That looks like a piece of money," quoth Chip. "Ain't it the corner of