With the first glimmer of day the following morning all were awake, and a very light breakfast was made of the root bread, which the chief distributed with great fairness as far as it went.

As Sam had agreed, he turned over to the chief the rifles, pistols, knives and blankets belonging to his party, keeping back only the canteens, which had been filled with water, and the saddle-bags.

"I should like to borrow my own rifle from you," said Sam, after he had made the transfer, "for it is not safe to travel through this land without a weapon to defend one's self from foe or wild beasts. I shall return it when I send you the other things."

"I let you have dis gun," said the chief, pointing to the old rusty shot-gun that had been the special object of Ike's care and the delight of his heart for so long.

"Take her, Mistah Sam, take her," urged Ike. "Dar ain't anodder gun like her—no, not in all dis yar land."

This was certainly the truth, yet "she" was rather an unreliable weapon to depend on in a trying emergency.

"That is a shot-gun, no good to you or to me. Let me have my own rifle with some ammunition, and I pledge my life to send it back and six more equally good with it."

"I tell you what I do," said the chief, after some deliberation and a good deal of whispering with his own people.

"What?"

"You got dog?"

"Yes."

"Well, you give me dog, I give you rifle."

Sam had always been attached to Maj, and the adventures they had shared together made him even dearer, so that to lose him would be like parting with a friend; still, he knew that a sacrifice might have to be made.

"What do you want with the dog?" he asked.

"Eat him," grunted the chief.

"I will give you the dog if you pledge me your word that you will not kill him for three days," said Sam, stooping and patting Maj on the head, while the faithful creature, in its turn, licked his hand.

"But we no find game then we get hungry," said the chief.

"You can find game. Agree to this, for the dog is my friend," said Sam with much feeling.

"An' my frien', too," added Ike.

"All right; I no kill for three days," said the chief.

With this understanding Sam received his rifle and the belt containing his ammunition, and one of the Apaches fastened a cord about the dog's neck and dragged the reluctant creature to his own side.

The chief pointed to a distant elevation—it looked to be only a few miles away, though it was actually thirty or more—and said:

"That mountain back Hurley's Gulch. Go there. Keep north side. You find 'em before dark. I come here three days. You bring all things, rifles, pistols, knives, and—and one more thing."

"What is that?" asked Sam.

"Heap tobacco, much lot whisky."

"I will keep my promise," said Sam, who could not but feel that the Indian was decidedly "on the make."

With this understanding Sam and his friends parted from the Apaches, and with their eager eyes fixed on the mountain that marked the site of Hurley's Gulch they hurried on.

The thought that he should meet his father that night gave strength and elasticity to Sam's limbs and filled his heart with a hope that was thrilling in its ecstacy.

He felt that their troubles were near an end, and that before the sun went down his father's innocence would be established, and the little band of Gold Cave Campers would be happily together once more.

He walked with such a long, quick stride that Ike and Wah Shin could only keep up with him by breaking into a dog-trot, that made them puff with the exertion.

"See h'ar, Mistah Sam!" called out Ike, after they had been traveling for two hours and the heat waves began to distort the landscape again. "Does yeh expeck a feller foh to run like a race-horse, w'en he ain't got nothin' in his inside but a bit ob dem dar roots? Foh de Lor', if you keeps up dis yar like all day, you'll fine yerself alone, foh dis chile's so holler he's nigh done gin out," and Sam came to a halt and wiped his perspiring face with his ragged coat-sleeve.

"Me hungly allee same like Ike, but me no say any-tlings," said Wah Shin as he stood panting like a hunted hare.

"I know, boys, that I've been hurrying more than I should in justice to you, but the thought that every step is taking me nearer to my father makes me forget how weary you must be," said Sam, his own brown face showing how the terrible pace told on him.

"Mistah Sam, dar's a sight more reason w'y you should be tireder an' hungrier dan we," said Ike, the better part of his nature asserting itself, as it always did in an emergency. "But we'll git dar long afore dark widout so much hurryin', an' yer fadder'll be a heap sight more pleased if we all shows up fresh an' smilin', eben if we is so holler."

Sam slackened his pace, but he was making fully four miles an hour when under way again.

The water in their canteens became very warm in the blistering heat of that dry atmosphere, but they had to drink, and as a consequence their supply was exhausted by the middle of the afternoon.

They had no food with them, and all were very hungry, but the prospect ahead made them forget their sufferings; for soldiers do not feel the pain of wounds received in the excitement of battle.

Sam reasoned that two hours more would see them at Hurley's Gulch, and had so told his companions, when Ike called out:

"Hello! Wat on earf is dem?"

Sam turned in the direction pointed out by Ike, and to his amazement he saw the forms of four gigantic horsemen; but, instead of their riding along the solid earth, they appeared to be moving far up in the sky.

All were familiar enough with the phenomena of this land to know that the riders were on the ground and that the spectral figures, representing them in the heavens had their origin in the mirage which is so frequent and delusive in this land.

"Ulna has reached Hurley's Gulch, and those must be men who have come to search for us," said Sam after he had surveyed the figures for some seconds.

About the same time the horsemen must have discovered Sam and his friends, for the giant figures could be seen pointing and waving their arms, while the monstrous horses plunged across the sky with mighty bounds.

Again Sam hurried on till he came to a towering rock that commanded from its summit a view of the country round about.

Up this he clambered, Ike and Wah Shin following him with great activity.

On the summit of the rock there were a series of excavations, some of which were partly filled with water left there by the late storm.

This water was comparatively cool, and after drinking till satisfied, Sam looked in the direction from which he expected the riders.

To his surprise, they were only a few hundred yards away, and it did not need a second glance to convince him that one of these riders was Frank Shirley, and another was the man with one eye who had accompanied him on that day, that seemed so far away, to Gold Cave Camp.

"Surely," he reasoned, "these would not be the men my father would send out from Hurley's Gulch to find me."

Instinctively he felt that the presence of these men meant him no good, and he made up his mind not to place himself in their power till assured that they were friendly.

The two horsemen with Frank Shirley and Badger were the landlord of the hotel at Hurley's, and a wretched creature of the same stripe who had been a partner and friend of Tom Edwards.

"Halloo! Halloo, Sam Willett! We've come out to find you!" called out Shirley when he came within hearing distance.

"Who sent you?" was Sam's salutation.

"Your father."

"How did he know I was here?"

"Ulna told him."

"Then why didn't he or Hank Tims come?"

"There are good reasons why they could not get off, so we have come in their stead. Get down from the rocks; we've been searching for you since before daylight," said Shirley, as he and Badger dismounted from their horses not a hundred feet away.

Slipping into one of the excavations so that he could see what was going on below without exposing himself, Sam called down:

"Frank Shirley, my father never sent you to find me."

"What! do you think Mr. Shirley's a-lyin'?" shouted Badger, at the same time unstringing his rifle and assuming a position as if about to fire.

"Yes, I do," said Sam boldly.

Badger would have fired, though Sam was out of sight had not Shirley laid his hand on his arm and said pleadingly:

"Don't do that, Badger; you'll spill all the fat in the fire. That young fellow has a rifle, and he knows how to use it."

Sam heard all this distinctly and he called out:

"Yes, and I will use it if you fellows don't get back and mount your horses while I count ten. One, two, three, four——"

Neither Shirley nor Badger waited to hear more, for as "one" was called out they saw the muzzle of a rifle pointing down at them from the top of the rock.

With the alacrity of acrobats the two men scrambled into their saddles, and as they did so the word "Two!" rang out.

"There, you see, we want to humor you, and if we were not friends we shouldn't do that," said Frank Shirley, trembling in voice and frame from his recent effort.

Sam's reply showed that he had no faith in this.

"My rifle is good for a half-mile. If you are within reach in ten minutes I'll begin to fire."

"See h'ar, young feller," called out Badger, "do you know what I think of you?"

"No, and I don't care."

"I think you're a devil."

"All right. Start, for the ten minutes have begun."

The four men did start. It would have been nothing less than suicide, the landlord said, to remain there and be shot at, "more particlar whin there was no show to shoot back."

Sullenly the men rode off, and when they had gone out of rifle-reach they came to a halt, and after much swearing all round, Shirley asked:

"Well, gentlemen, what's to be done next?"

"Nothing, till dark," said Badger.

"And what then?"

"Then we ken get at 'em."

"But how?"

"While two of us shoot at the front of the rock to attract 'em, two others can climb up behind and finish the job for good," said Badger.