across to the left, slip down, and take
them in the rear. Likely as not we'll find it there."

"All right. Whatever you say, Dick."

They slipped away into the semi-darkness, taking advantage of every bit
of cover they could find. Not until they were a long stone's throw from
the trail did the young miner begin the descent.

Occasionally they could hear voices over to the right as they silently
slipped down. It was no easy thing to negotiate that stiff mountainside
in the darkness, where a slip would have sent one of them rolling down
into the sharp rock-slide beneath. Presently they came to a rockrim, a
sheer descent of twenty-five feet down the perpendicular face of a
cliff.

They followed the ledge to the left, hoping to find a trough through
which they might discover a way down. But in this they were
disappointed.

"We'll have to go back. There's a place we passed where perhaps it may
be done. We've got to try it, anyhow," said Gordon, in desperation.

Retracing their steps, they came to the point Dick had meant. It looked
bad enough, in all conscience, but from the rocks there jutted halfway
down a dwarf oak that had found rooting in a narrow cleft.

The young man worked his body over the edge, secured a foothold in some
tiny scarp that broke the smoothness of the face, and groped, with one
hand and then the other, for some hold that would do to brace his
weight. He found one, lowered himself gingerly, and tested another
foothold in a little bunch of dry moss.

"All right. My rifle, Steve."

It was handed down. At that precise moment there came to them the sound
of approaching voices.

"Your gun, Steve! Quick. Now, then, over you come. That's right--no, the
other hand--your foot goes there--easy, now."

They stood together on a three-inch ledge, their heels projecting over
space. Nor had they reached this precarious safety any too soon, for
already their pursuers were passing along the rim above.

One of them stopped on the edge, scarce eight feet above them.

"They must have come this way," he said to a companion. "But I expect
they're hitting the trail about a mile from here."

"_Si, Pablo_. Can you feed me a cigareet?" the other asked.

The men below, scarce daring to breathe, waited, while the matches
glimmered and the cigarettes puffed to a glow. Every instant they
anticipated discovery; and they were in such a position that, if it
came, neither of them could use his weapons. For they were c