es of the stream. In places these were honeycombed with caves,
running back, apparently, some distance into the bank. Although Dick
did not know it, these caves had once been the dwelling places of an
extinct tribe of Indians.

The boy was surprised to see smoke coming from one of them, for he had
supposed that they were uninhabited.

"Maybe there are Indians up there," thought the boy. "I guess I'll
give them a look, and maybe get a good picture," for Dick invariably
carried his camera with him on the chance of getting a good snapshot
at something or other.

A rough path led up to the cave and it was well worn by feet which
had, apparently, traversed it recently. Dick reached the entrance of
the cave and peered in.

It was deserted; but to his astonishment he saw, from the way it was
fitted up, that whoever lived in it were not Indians. Blankets lay on
the floor, and the smoke was coming from a fire which had been used
for cooking and was dying out. The utensils were not such as Indians
use, being made of agate ware. Then, too, he noticed some old coats
and other garments hanging on nails that had been driven into the
wall.

As his eyes grew more accustomed to the light, he saw a suitcase in
one corner. There were initials on it. Dick made them out to be W. M.

'"W. M.'? Who can that be?" he mused. "Whoever lives here is a white
man, that is plain. But why is he a hermit? Anyhow, I'd better be
getting out of this before he comes back. I've really got no business
in here at all."

At this juncture he heard voices coming from the river. They were
punctuated by the dip of oars. As he heard the speakers outside,
Dick's mind suddenly realized who "W. M." was.

"What a chump I was not to think of it before!" he exclaimed. "It's
William Masterson, of course, and that's his voice outside. Gee
whillakers, they must have camped here on purpose to spy on us."

Just then it occurred to Dick that he was, as a matter of fact, spying
on Masterson. He went to the cave door. Below was a boat containing
Masterson and his two friends. They had apparently been to town for
supplies, for the boat was full of canned goods and provisions.

Just as Dick got to the door Masterson spied the home-made boat lying
on the bank at the foot of the cliff.

"Say, fellows," he exclaimed, "somebody's been paying us a call."

"Some thieving Indian, judging from the looks of that boat," said Sam
Higgins.

"Well, we're not receiving callers