“Let’s go to the hotel to the dance to-night,” suggested Nora, after their supper.

“I’d like nothing better,” replied Grace.

“Some one had better stay behind to put little Chunky to bed,” sniffed Emma.

“I guess I’m going to that dance!” snorted the fat boy belligerently, but when the others laughed he grinned a bit too.

In the end they all went except Lieutenant Wingate, who had business letters to write. He wrote steadily for half an hour, then paused in his work to consider some question further. As he sat there a sharp whistle attracted his attention.

“That’s a signal,” he thought.

When the whistle came a second time Hippy answered it in kind, then crept silently over a rise of ground toward the sound.

“What’s the matter? They watchin’ you?” came a voice so close and unexpected that Hippy had hard work to suppress an exclamation.

“Yes,” he said after a brief silence, during which he drew back a little. “How are things?”

“They’re fixed. They—Say, who are you?”

Without waiting for a reply, the man turned and ran, disappearing in the darkness. Hippy tried to follow, but it was a hopeless chase.

“Something queer there, but, after all, I don’t know that anything is actually wrong,” reasoned the young man, and went back to his letter writing.

It was some time later that Jim Badger came into camp, and Hippy looked up to say:

“Some fellow’s been prowling about here to-night. He gave a peculiar whistle. Did you hear it?”

“Me? No. Might have been some man from the hotel whistling to his dog.”

“Maybe,” and again Hippy turned to his work.

In a few moments the same whistle came again. The lieutenant put aside his writing materials quietly and stepped softly out into the darkness. He soon heard two voices, but pitched so low that he could not understand what was said. So Hippy tried to draw closer to the speakers. Just as he reached a spot where he might have overheard what was being said, he stepped on a stick that broke with a sharp snap. Knowing he could not now avoid discovery, he called:

“That you, Jim?”

“Yes, it’s me and a feller who says he’s lost his way. Ain’t a word of truth in that, though. Now you clear out, you tramp, and keep away from this camp,” the guide went on to his invisible companion. “You’re not going to rob us!”

The fellow hastened away and Jim returned to the camp with Hippy, who remarked:

“It doesn’t seem reasonable that a thief would signal his coming by a whistle, does it, Jim?”

“Thieves ain’t reasonable. But I guess the feller did that to make sure the way was clear.”

“Are you going to be around the camp, Jim?”

“Yes; unless you want me to do something.”

“I would appreciate it if you would take my letters to the hotel so they will get off in the early morning.”

Jim took the letters and left the camp, and soon after this Hippy went himself to the hotel to join the other Overlanders at the dance. The dance hall was in a building separated from the main hotel, and as Hippy approached this building from the rear of the hotel he halted sharply. He then strode on past two men in the shadow of an ell to the main building. He was sure he knew that voice, even though the words had been spoken almost in a whisper. He entered the ballroom and was soon surrounded by friends.

Among them were Colonel Scott and his party who had arrived that evening by stage. After greeting Hippy warmly the colonel said: “Mrs. Gray tells me that you are to set out in the morning to go along the canyon. We expect to take that route, starting right after lunch. Perhaps we shall overtake you and see you again.”

“I most sincerely hope we may meet,” was the cordial reply.

Shortly after this the Overland Riders left the ballroom for their camp, there to pack and make ready for an early morning start. They were to go about eighteen miles further on and pitch their next camp at Mount Washburn.

On their arrival there the next day they located their camp near a river on one side and a dense growth of pines on the other. The place was lonely, and the guide warned them to keep a lookout for wild animals. Their site was not reached by the Government road generally used by the coaches, but the wagon road that led to it was in good condition.

They prepared and ate lunch, then spent the afternoon fishing, making a good catch. This was well, for just before supper time a Concord coach swung into view, and in a few moments Colonel Scott and his party alighted and were cordially greeted by the campers.

“I’m glad you came just now to help us eat all these fish,” said Grace.

“Yes, do stay for supper,” urged Elfreda.

“We’re a big party to come in unannounced,” objected the colonel.

“No; you will only ease our consciences, for you know one ought not to catch more than is needed for food,” observed Nora.

The coaching party stayed. It was late when they finally got up to resume their journey. It was when they were about to get into the coach that Jim Badger, a look of surprise and concern on his face, exclaimed:

“Say, you’ve lost a nut off this hind wheel!”

The guide set off down the road the coach had come to look for the nut. Hippy followed after, taking a lantern as it was growing dark. The lieutenant had gone but a few yards when he saw the nut lying in plain sight.

“We are certainly in luck that you found this so soon, Lieutenant Wingate,” said one of the party, as, the wheel fixed, they were ready to go on again.

“Yes,” agreed Hippy slowly.

“I’m hungry,” announced Stacy, as soon as the coach was out of sight.

“Hungry!” exclaimed Emma. “Stacy Brown, you ate fish until, in spite of the amount we had, I was afraid it would not go around.” Before Stacy could resent this in words a shrill scream of distress came to the ears of the Overland Eiders. This was followed by a volley of shots.

“That coaching party’s in trouble!” exclaimed Tom. “Come, fellows! Better stay here, girls.”

Grace and Elfreda did not heed Tom’s advice, and before long the party of five, all mounted bareback, were off down the road.

“It is the coach,” muttered Hippy a little later. “Hi! Cease firing!” he yelled.

“Don’t shoot! It’s Wingate!” cried a voice.

“What happened?” demanded Tom, when the campers galloped up to the group of tourists huddled at the side of the road.

“Matter?” shouted Colonel Scott. “We’ve been held up and robbed!”

It was Grace who discovered the rear wheel of the vehicle lying at the side of the road.

“Driver, did that nut come off again?”

The driver looked as if he would not answer the girl’s question, but a glance into Tom’s eyes made him say:

“Yes. The axle broke when the wheel came off,” he added.

Only one masked man had been seen, but the driver insisted that he had noted rifles and revolvers behind the bushes, covering the party.

“Huh!” snorted Elfreda, at which Hippy grinned.

But it was serious business and Hippy soon sobered.

“Come, Tom, let’s look for traces of the robbers. The rest of you had better not come. It might confuse the trail.”

The two made a thorough search near the spot of the hold-up and came to the conclusion that only two men had been engaged in the work. Soon after this Hippy, peering behind some bushes, picked up something from the ground.

“Well, any results?” asked Colonel Scott when the searchers were back near the coach.

“Nothing positive,” answered Hippy. “By the way, Colonel, did you tell your driver to notify the park guards?”

“Yes.”

“Well, nothing more can be done to-night. Your driver had better start back at once to the hotel for another coach. Meanwhile, the rest of you come to our camp for the night.”

This was agreed upon and the large party lay down in some fashion in the camp of the Overland Riders to get what sleep they could. Only Hippy sat by the fire, eyes open. Badger tossed restlessly for a long while, then, glancing at the wakeful lieutenant, turned over and slept.

At dawn the coach came rumbling up and was soon followed by four park guards.

Colonel Scott gave the guards a brief account of what had taken place. Meanwhile Hippy went into his tent and returned holding a hat in one hand and a revolver in the other.

“What do you know about this?” demanded a guard sternly, whirling upon Hippy.

“Don’t get excited, Buddy; and don’t give me orders,” drawled the lieutenant. “Look out!” he exclaimed suddenly.

He need not have called out. One of the guards, also seeing Jim Badger turn and try to get away, grabbed the fellow by the collar and held him.

“This hat belongs to Badger,” said Hippy. “I picked it up last night near the spot where, I think, you’ll find their loot concealed. Is this your watch, Colonel?” he continued, now holding out a handsome watch to the colonel.

“It is! Where did you get it?”

“Same place.” This time Hippy did not call out, but jumped toward Taggart, who was running toward the forest. He caught up with the fellow, who stopped, reached out his foot and kicked viciously, landing in Hippy’s stomach. Wingate went down, but a guard was not far away and he caught the driver in a vise-like grip.

The guide and the driver were taken back to the settlement, and Taggart confessed that he and Badger had been robbing the hotel and coaching parties for a year or two, their work making it fairly easy to do this.

Back in Cinnabar they were met with the news that the car containing their ponies had been broken into and robbed and that the railroad detectives had found no trace of the animals.

“I’m sorry,” said Grace. “We’ll ship these animals home, as we’ll never hear of the missing ponies.”

This attended to, the Overland Riders entrained for home.