ail slippery and once the horse came near slipping
into the depths of the gorge below, but with a tremendous straining
effort the plucky animal scrambled back to safety. It was evident that
his rider was born to be hanged, for he seemed able to escape every
other form of death. Having regained the trail, he rode on for some
distance, then he turned into a side canyon, and his knowing horse
took him through the labyrinth of trees, until there appeared a light
of a campfire at the end of the trail. The gaunt forms of some men
could be seen moving around it.

One of the men heard the approach of the Mexican and gave the alarm.
In an instant no one was in sight, but there were a number of guns
ready to take the number of the stranger whoever he might be. But the
Mexican was on to their little ways. He reined in his horse, gave a
low whistle, and called out something in Spanish and then rode up to
the group.

There were eight in the gang, including the stout red-necked man who
had given the boys a chase early in the morning. The evident leader of
the crowd was a lanky young fellow whose unusual length of limb did
not indicate any frailty of physique. He was a man to be dreaded in
any encounter. Gus Gols had a rather shock head of light hair, one
bunch always sticking up; high cheek bones, a skin of dully burnished
red, and rather small blue eyes, both keen and insolent in their gaze.
He had a queer, aggressive way of hooking his head forward when
speaking that was very noticeable.

He was not vicious in speech, but he was in action, and was one of the
most dangerous characters in the West. He had been cowboy, cattle
rustler and road agent in different parts of the country west of the
Missouri. Now he was at the head of a desperate gang who raided far
and wide, taking gold from the pack trains or from the individual
miner, where he had struck it rich; even making raids on the
settlements on the western slope of the Sierras.

It appeared as though the Frontier Boys were walking directly into
the jaws of this desperate gang. They were already trailing them and
might pounce upon them at any time. Physically it would seem that Jim
himself would be no match for "Big Gus," as he was generally known in
that section of the woods, but two of them, say Jim and Juarez, would
have made it interesting for him.

Gus Gols listened to his Mexican's story of adventure with much
impassiveness, then he got slowly to his feet. He had made