own canteens were filled and saturated and food so prepared that it
could be eaten from the saddle.

"For," said Porter, "when we do hit the little girl's trail, starvation
or thirst or high hell ain't goin' to stop us!"

It was mid-afternoon when they started down the mountainside. There
was no trail and going was painful but the men moved with the care of
desperation. Once in the cañon they moved slowly along the wall and
some two miles from where the scarf had been found, they discovered a
fault where climbing was possible. It was nearing sundown when they
reached a wide ledge where the way was easy. Porter led the way back
over this to the spot below which fluttered a white paper to mark the
place where the scarf had been found. The ledge deepened here to make
room for a tiny, bubbling spring. Giant boulders were scattered across
the rocky floor.

The three men dismounted. The ledge gave no trace of human occupancy
and yet Porter and Jack nodded at each other.

"Here was his camp, all right. Water, and no one could come within a
mile of him without his being seen."

"He's still covering his traces carefully," said Jack.

"Not so very," answered Porter. "He's banking a whole lot on our
stupidity, but Miss Tuttle beat him to it with her scarf."

The three men treated the ledge to a microscopic examination but they
found no trace of previous occupation until Billy knelt and put his