While daylight was flooding the upper world next morning, and the shadows were lifting from the gloomy depths of the caÑon, the modern cave dwellers ate their breakfast.

About three hundred yards above the caves the caÑon widened out into a valley some three hundred yards in diameter. The bottom of this valley was covered with rich grass, and in it was a grove of cotton-wood trees whose bright verdure gave the place the appearance of a rich emerald gem in a mighty setting of granite.

In this valley the horses and pack mules were kept, and, as they had but little to do, they might be said to "live in clover."

While it was still dusky in these depths, though the glimpses of far-off ruddy mountain peaks told that the sun was rising in the upper world, Sam and Ike, who were hardly ever apart, went up to the valley and soon returned with three horses and two mules, the latter were to carry back the necessary supplies from Hurley's Gulch.

It had been Mr. Willett's custom to make this trip once a month, so that his going now was not an unusual event, yet his face showed that he was much dejected, as if he had a premonition of the awful calamity that was so soon to come upon himself and his beloved boy.

His last words, as he kissed Sam, were:

"If anything should happen to detain me longer than four days, I will send a letter back by Ulna."

"But we'll be back on time," joined in Hank Tims, "for I don't like crowds, an', then, we've struck pay dirt rich up at the head of the valley, an' I'm just a spilein' to see how it'll pan out to the ind."

Good-bys were said, and Sam, Ike and Wah Shin stood on the plateau before the cave and waved their hats, till the three men had led the animals up the giddy trail and disappeared beyond the towering summit of the cliff.

Under the teaching of his father and Hank Tims, Sam had become a skillful gold miner, that is, so far as panning out the gravel and collecting the gold were concerned.

The fact that he was the prospective heir to a large fortune did not unfit him for work this morning. With Ike he went up to the sluices immediately after his father left, and until the sun was in mid-heaven they worked, shoveling gravel into the cradle and rocking it under the water, and only stopping to pick out the nuggets and yellow dust and scales that rewarded their effort every hour.

By means of an old-fashioned horn, Wah Shin summoned them to dinner. Of the fresh meat he had made pies that would have tempted an invalid's appetite. And, as the boys ate, sitting before the entrance to the cave, the Chinaman's face fairly glowed with delight at the evidence of his excellent cooking.

"Ven'zon pie belly good," chuckled Wah Shin, as he produced a second when the first had vanished. "But man eatee too muchee, den get mebbe sick."

"Dat ar edvice is 'tended foh Mistah Sam," laughed Ike, as he helped himself again. "But vanzon pie an' 'possums are two tings I ain't nebber got my fill ob up to dis time."

Sam heard but did not heed the talk of his companions, for his attention was at the moment attracted to two strange men who were slowly making their way down the trail on the opposite side of the caÑon wall.

As there was danger from prowling bands of Indians who had left the reservation, and also from white outlaws who frequently robbed weak mining camps, every one at Gold Cave Camp strapped on a belt, with a knife and pistols in it, as regularly as he pulled on his boots.

Starting to his feet and followed by Ike, Sam went down to the stream, getting there just as the two men reached the bottom.

One of the strangers was a tall, dark-bearded man, with one eye, and the other was a short, yellow-skinned man with a mean expression of face, whom Sam recognized as his cousin, Frank Shirley.

Sam had never spoken to this man, so he did not greet him like an acquaintance now.

Both men were well armed, as is the fashion of the country, and when they came within hailing distance, Frank Shirley called out:

"Hello, young man, is this Mr. Willett's camp?"

"It is, sir," was Sam's reply, as he came to a halt.

"Is Mr. Willett home?"

"He is not."

"Where is he?"

"He has gone to Hurley's Gulch."

"When did he leave?"

"This morning."

"Ah, I'm sorry I missed him. When do you expect him back?"

"In a few days. Won't you come over and have some dinner?" asked Sam, waving his hand in the direction of the plateau, on which Wah Shin was visible.

"Thank you; no. We are going on to Hurley's Gulch, and are in a great hurry," said Frank Shirley, turning and whispering to his companion, who nodded vigorously in response.

"Who shall I say called?" asked Sam, as the two men turned to ascend the trail.

"Friends," was the laconical reply.

"If dem's frien's," said Ike, when the men had gone out of hearing, "den Ize de biggest kind ob a foe."

The conversation of the two men when they reached the top of the cliff proved the black boy's surmise to be correct.

They had left their horses hitched to a rock, and as they prepared to mount, Frank Shirley said to his companion:

"That's the boy, Badger."

"The boy ez stan's atween you an' fortune?" said Badger.

"Yes."

"Wa'll, ain't you hired me to help you clear the way?"

"I have, Badger."

"Good; then let us git rid of the father first, an' then all the rest'll be ez smooth ez ile."

"You will stick to your contract?"

"I'd be a fool if I didn't. You pay expenses an' give me ten thousand dollars to get 'em out of the way. Isn't that it?"

"That's it, Badger," said Frank Shirley, as he mounted and rode along beside his companion.

"That ar boy down thar," said Badger, waving his hand back at the caÑon, "ain't no slouch. He'll fight, he will; an' the best way with sich is to give 'em no chance."

"No chance," echoed Frank Shirley, "that's it exactly. And now that we have them parted our opportunity has come."

"Just ez if 'twas made to order," said Badger.

After the men had gone, Sam and Ike went to work again, but the former had lost the cheerfulness that distinguished him in the morning.

He could not get those two men out of his mind, not that he feared their return—indeed, he could not account to himself for the strange feeling of dread that possessed him for the next three days.

While working, on the afternoon of the fourth day since his father's departure, he noticed that the sky had become overcast and that the water in the bed of the stream was rapidly rising.

He and Ike quit work earlier than usual, and they had great difficulty in making their way to the caves through the swollen torrent.

They had hardly reached cover when a terrific storm came up and the caÑon became as dark as night, while the roar of the waters and the crashing of the thunder were ceaseless and appalling.

It was about nine o'clock at night, and the three occupants of the cave were sitting with awed faces before the fire, when, to their inexpressible surprise, Ulna, the young Ute, stood dripping before them.

"How did you reach here?" asked Sam, springing to his feet and grasping Ulna's hand.

"I rode till I killed my horse, then I ran for hours. The flood was up, and it is rising, but I managed to swim across——"

"But my father!" interrupted Sam, pleadingly laying his arm on the young Indian's shoulders.

"He and Hank Tims are prisoners at Hurley's Gulch," said Ulna.

"Prisoners."

"Yes, and in the hands of the lynchers who charge them with the murder of Tom Edwards. Here is a letter from your father that will explain all," said Ulna, pulling a damp paper from his pocket and adding, "your testimony is wanted at once to clear the accused; but no man can cross the caÑon for a week, and then it will be too late!"