Sam Willett had courage and fortitude in no common degree, but the words of Ulna, who stood dripping and panting before him, froze him with a speechless terror.

He took the wet paper from the Indian boy's hand, but for some seconds he had neither the courage nor the strength to open it.

The howling of the wind down the gorge and the hoarse roaring of the maddened waters heightened the terror of the situation.

Wah Shin, though not well versed in English, fully understood the import of Ulna's message, but realizing his own inability to do or to suggest anything, he stood with his lips drawn and his little oblique eyes half closed.

Ike was the only one of the party who did not appear to have lost the power of speech. Taking the letter from Sam's hand, he said:

"Dat ar paper's powahful damp, an' I reckon, Mistah Sam, yeh kin read it bettah if so be I dries it so's it won't fall to pieces."

Ike opened the paper and while he held it before the fire, Ulna briefly explained the situation.

He said that Mr. Willett, Hank Tims and himself reached Hurley's Gulch without any mishap.

They found the rude mining camp in a great state of commotion owing to a robbery and murder that had recently been committed.

The more law-abiding, or rather the more industrious, for there was no organized law in the place, had formed a vigilance committee to hang the next murderer or robber, under the wild sanction of "lynch law."

"Just as soon as we reached Hurley's Gulch," continued Ulna, "we met Tom Edwards, and he was very drunk and very abusive. He shouted to every one he met that Mr. Willett had robbed him, and took Gold Cave Camp from him without paying a cent, though he had promised fifteen hundred dollars."

"Why, the man lies infamously!" interrupted Sam. "I was a witness to Edwards' receipt for the money in full, and I have it here among father's papers."

"And that receipt is what your father must have at once in order to clear him of the charge of robbery and murder," said Ulna.

"Murder!" repeated Sam.

"Yes. Last night Tom Edwards was found dying with a pistol bullet in his breast, and with his last breath he swore to the men who found him that your father and Hank Tims shot him to get rid of paying the money they owed him. The vigilantes at once arrested Mr. Willett and Tom, and they swear they will hang them if they do not prove that Tom Edwards was paid. I saw the money paid myself, but they refuse to take the word of an Indian," said Ulna, with a flash of indignation in his splendid black eyes; then continuing, "but they agreed to let me come here for the paper."

"Heah!" cried Ike, springing from beside the fire, "de lettah's dry enough to read. Let's know w'at Mistah Willett he has to say foh hisself."

Sam took the paper, and kneeling down to get the benefit of the light, he read aloud as follows:

"My Dear Son:—I do not want you to be at all alarmed at my detention. Ulna will explain why neither Tom nor I can return till you have brought us the receipt which Tom Edwards signed when I paid him the money in full for his claim at Gold Cave Camp.

"This receipt you will find among the papers in my saddle-bags. Bring it to me with all speed and leave Ulna back in charge of the camp; it does not matter if the mining ceases till we return.

"I regret to have to tell you that Tom Edwards is dead. He was drunk when he received the shot that killed him, and he accused Hank and me of the crime. If the people here knew us well they would not believe this charge for one instant, but they do not, and so we must wait till we can show the vigilance committee who hold us prisoners, that we could have no motive for, even if we were inclined to do this awful deed.

"I saw Frank Shirley here yesterday afternoon in company with a well-known desperado who goes by the name of 'One-Eyed Badger.' I cannot but think that these two men are at the bottom of this new trouble, but what their reasons can be I cannot even guess; certain it is that I have never done them or any one else a wrong knowingly.

"Do not lose heart, for I have no fear as to the result: only come as soon as you can to your loving father,

"Samuel Willett."

Sam read this over rapidly, then he read it a second time with more deliberation.

"De boss am in a bad fix," groaned Ike, "an' I jest wish I could take his place."

"I shall go to my father at once," said Sam, stoutly.

He went to the saddle-bags, got the necessary papers—the receipt and deed—and placed them securely in the inner breast pocket of his buckskin tunic.

"You no gettee on holse an' lide such night as deez coz it was so muchee stolmy?" said Wah Shin when he saw Sam getting out his saddle, bridle and rifle.

"I must get to Hurley's Gulch before another day," was the resolute reply, "if I have to go there on my hands and knees."

"But you cannot go to-night," protested Ulna. "Come and see the danger."

He took Sam by the arm and led him out to the plateau before the entrance to the cave.

It has been said that it but seldom rains in this land, but when it does the watery torrents come down with a continued fury, of which the dwellers in more favored climes can have only the faintest conception.

The bare rocks refuse to absorb the rain as it falls, and so the ever-accumulating waters sweep into the caÑons and fill the narrow beds between the precipitous banks with wild torrents, that must be once seen before an adequate idea can be formed of the tremendous and seemingly irresistible power of water in action.

The four occupants of the caves, all fine types of four human races, went out to the plateau.

The light, streaming through the cave opening, cut across the inky blackness of the caÑon like a solid yellow shaft, that made the surrounding darkness more impenetrable.

Laden with sheets rather than drops of rain, the wind swept down the ravine with a force that threatened to tear the observers from the rocks and hurl them into the seething torrent.

"Before this time," said Ulna, speaking with the calmness that distinguished all he said, "the valley is flooded and the horses up there are drowned."

Sam shuddered but made no reply.

He went back to the cave, secured a lighted brand, and, returning to the edge of the plateau, he dropped it over.

It went hissing down. If the current were as low as the day before it should have fallen sheer down for a hundred feet, but before going half that distance, it lit up an expanse of water white with foam, and was extinguished.

The result of this experiment brought Sam's heart to his mouth, and he could not have uttered a word if the life of the father he so well loved depended on it.

"If she keeps on a-climbin' up dat way," groaned Ike, "de watah'll be nigh into de cave by mawnin'."

Sam now recalled that he had found drift-wood lodged in the crevices of the rocks, even higher than the entrances to the cave, and from this he inferred that at the highest water no one could stay in the cave and live.

Maj, the fine setter dog, had been moaning beside the fire all the evening, but now he came out and crouched at his young master's feet, as if his instinct told him of the danger and that he wanted protection.

Fearing that the poor horses were gone, and well knowing that it would be madness to attempt to cross the caÑon that night, Sam turned sadly to his companions and said:

"We can do nothing till daylight comes. Let us get in out of the storm."

They returned to the cave and silently sat down on the stones that had been placed for seats near the fire.

It was a most trying situation.

Even if Mr. Willett and Hank Tims had been safely there in the cave, the ever-increasing storm and the possibility, or rather the certainty of its danger if it continued would have been sufficient to drive sleep from the eyes of all.

But Sam Willett, brave, unselfish youth that he was, gave no thought to the peril of his own surroundings.

With his chin resting between his up-turned palms, he looked steadily at the dying fire without seeing it.

His heart and his thoughts were ever with his sorely-tried father at Hurley's Gulch, and he groaned as he read in the beating of the storm the edict that might bar his going to the rescue.

But though unmindful of himself, it was not in Sam's nature to neglect the comfort of others.

"Lie down, all of you," he said to his companions, "and I will stand guard till daylight comes."

After a weak protest, Wah Shin, Ulna and Ike brought in their blankets and lay down before the fire.

Ike pretended that he did not want to sleep, but, after an attempt at desultory talk, his eyes closed and he soon became oblivious to his surroundings.

Maj continued to be restless and frightened. Now and then, as if to judge for himself how the storm was getting on, he would go to the cave opening, and, after whining in a pained way for some seconds, he would come back and crouch down near the fire with his nose resting on his young master's knees.

To sorrow-stricken Sam Willett that night seemed like an eternity of darkness.

He was beginning to feel that the storm had destroyed the sun, when the grey light of another day began to creep slowly into the cave.