HOW THE LITTLE TRAP WORKED

"What do you think of it?" asked Frank, after they had stood there a short time, taking in the picture as seen in the late afternoon.

"It's hard to tell," Bob replied slowly. "It's so terribly big, that a fellow ought to take his time letting the thing soak in. That further wall looks as if you could throw a stone over to it; and yet they say it's more than a mile from here."

"Yes," Frank went on, "and all along in the Grand Canyon there are what seem to be little hills, every one of which is a mountain in itself. They only look small in comparison with the tremendous size of the biggest gap in the whole world."

"And how far does this thing run—is it fifty miles in length?" Bob asked.

"I understand that the river runs through this canyon over two hundred miles," the other replied. "And all the way there are scores, if not hundreds, of smaller canyons and 'washes,' reaching out like the fingers of a whopping big hand; or the feelers of a centipede."

"That's what I read about it away back; but I had forgotten," Bob remarked. "And they say that it would be a year's trip to try and follow the Grand Canyon all the way down from beginning to end, only on one side."

"I reckon it would, for you'd have to trace every one of these lateral gashes up to its source, so as to cross over. And that would mean thousands of miles to be covered."

"Gee!" exclaimed Bob, throwing up his hands as he spoke; "when you say that, it makes a fellow have some little idea of the size of this hole. And to think it's come just by the river eating away the soil!"

"They call that erosion," remarked Frank, who had of course posted himself on many of these facts, during his previous visit to the canyons of the Little Colorado. "It's been going on for untold thousands of years; and as the river with its tributaries has gradually eaten away the soil and rocks, it has left the grandest pictured and colored walls ever seen in any part of this old earth."

"When that afternoon sun shines on the red rocks it makes them look almost like blood," declared Bob. "And already I'm glad we came. I think just now I could be happy spending months prowling around here, finding new pictures every day."

"Then you don't blame old Uncle Felix for staying, do you?" laughed Frank.

"Sure I don't," returned the other lad, with vehemence. "And besides, you must remember that he had another string to his bow."

"Meaning his craze to be the fortunate man of science to unravel the mystery that has always hung over the homes of those cliff dwellers?" Frank went on.

"I can understand how it must appeal to a man living as Professor Felix has all these years," mused Bob. "And think of those queer old fellows picking out this one place of all the wide country to build their homes."

"That was because there could be no place that offered them a tenth of the advantages this did," Frank remarked, pointing across the wide chasm to the towering heights that could be seen. "Think of hundreds of miles of such cliffs to choose from! And as the softer rock was washed out by the action of floods countless ages ago, leaving the harder in the shape of astonishing shelves and buttes, these people took a lesson from nature, and carved their roomy homes by following the pliable stone."

"Say," Bob exclaimed, "that makes me think of what I read about the catacombs of Rome; how, for hundreds of miles, they run in every direction, following the course of veins of earth in the rock, that were selected by those who dug 'em."

"Of course," said Frank, "these people built their homes up in the cliffs in order to be safe. Nobody seems to know what they were afraid of, whether savage tribes, or great beasts that may have roamed this part of the country a thousand and more years ago."

"And that's the bait that has drawn the old scientist here, to study it all out, and write up the history of the people who looked on this very picture so many hundreds of years back. Why, Frank, some of the cliffs they say are about a mile high! That's hard to believe, for a fact."

"But it's been proved true," the other asserted. "The trouble is, that everything here is on such an awful big scale that a fellow fools himself. Actual measurement is the only way to prove things. The eye goes back on you. Why, I've looked out on a clear day in Colorado, and believed I could walk to a mountain in an hour. They told me it's base was fifty miles away; and there you are."

"Well, we'll have to put off looking till morning," said Bob, regretfully; "because the sun's dropped out of sight, and it's getting pretty thick down there in the hole. And to think that to-morrow we'll be pushing along through that place, with the walls shutting us in on both sides."

"Not only to-morrow, but for many days, perhaps," Frank added; for more than ever did he begin to realize the enormous task that confronted them; it was almost like looking for a needle in a haystack; but if one possesses a powerful magnet, even then the bit of steel may be recovered in time.

Did they happen to know of any such magnet?

Almost unconsciously Frank's thoughts went out toward that old Moqui brave, Havasupai, who had fled from his village because of some act which he had committed; but who was now determined to return, and take his punishment with the stoicism Indians have always shown.

The Moqui might be the connecting link! He alone knew where the hermit had his lodging, possibly in one of those quaint series of cliff dwellers' homes, which for some reason he called Echo Cave.

"We must ask if our friend Sheriff Stanwix has been here," Bob suggested, as they went to their room to prepare for supper.

"Oh!" replied his chum, "I did that when I spoke with the clerk at the desk. You were looking after the ponies at the time, so as to make sure they'd be well taken care of for a week, or a month if necessary."

"And what did he tell you, Frank?"

"They got here, all right," came the reply. "If you'd looked sharp when you were out there in the hotel stables, you might have recognized both their mounts; for they left them here at noon to-day."

"Noon!" echoed Bob; "then they made mighty good work of it, to get ahead of us all that time. I reckon you're going to tell me they've gone down into the canyon, and put in several hours looking for their birds, the two fellows who've given 'em the merry laugh more'n a few times."

"Guessed right the first shot," Frank went on, "but all that doesn't concern us one half as much as some other information I struck."

"And you've been keeping it back from me, while we stood there on the piazza, admiring the wonderful view," Bob remarked, with a touch of reproach in his voice.

"There were people passing us, all the time," his chum explained; "and besides, I wanted to keep it until we were alone, so we could talk it over."

"Is it about that scheming cousin of your father's—what did you say his name was—Eugene Warringford?"

"You got it straight enough," Frank admitted; "and what I learned, was about him. I saw his name on the register, and he's somewhere about the hotel right now. I had a suspicion that I saw some one trying to get near us while we stood there, drinking in that picture; and Bob, while I couldn't just hold up my hand and say for sure, I think it was that tricky Abajo."

"The half-breed cowboy who left Circle Ranch because he had some news for this Eugene that the fellow would be apt to consider mighty valuable, because it meant a stake of a million or two dollars; is that right, Frank?"

"The same Abajo," his chum continued; "which proves that those two are bound up in a plot to win this game. If Eugene can only find Uncle Felix he intends to get that paper in his possession, by fair means or foul."

"Then it's up to us to put a stopper in his little bottle!" declared Bob.

"I'm wondering," Frank proceeded, "whether they've got any idea where to look for the man who has hidden himself away for three years. Perhaps they mean to keep tabs on us, and if we are lucky enough to discover Uncle Felix, they hope to jump in, and snatch away the prize before we can warn him."

"Say, this is getting to be a pretty mix-up all around," laughed the Kentucky lad. "Here we are, meaning to try and follow the old Moqui; or failing that, wait for him to fetch us a message from the hermit of Echo Cave. Then Eugene, and his shadow, Abajo, are hanging around with the idea of beating us at our game. Havasupai on his part will be heading for the cave that lies in an unknown part of the Grand Canyon, and all the while dodging about for fear that he is followed."

"Yes," added Frank, falling in with the idea; "and perhaps there are the Moquis from his village who may have had word somehow of his return, searching for Havasupai, and bent on bringing him to the bar of their tribal law. To finish the game, think of our friends, the two sheriffs, loose in the big gash, and hunting for the men who have snapped their fingers in their faces so often across the line!"

"Well, it sure looks like there might be some warm times coming," remarked Bob. "I suppose we take our guns along with us when we're going the rounds of the sights?"

"Wouldn't think of doing anything else," was Frank's reply. "No telling when we might need 'em. Suppose, now, those two rascals the sheriffs are after should learn in some way about the value of the paper Uncle Felix has with him, wouldn't they just make it the game of their lives to try and capture him? And I reckon Eugene, too, will be so dead in earnest that he won't stop at little things, backed up by such a reckless character as the Mexican. Yes, the repeating rifles go along, Bob!"

"This water feels fine after that long, dusty and tiresome ride, eh?" remarked the young Kentuckian, as he splashed in the deep basin, and then proceeded to use the towel vigorously.

"It certainly does," Frank admitted, as he did likewise.

Shortly afterward the two boys went down to supper. The hotel had its usual number of guests, this being a favorite point for parties to start on the tour.

"Don't look just now," said Frank, as they sat at a table; "but Abajo has taken his seat right back of you. And it wasn't accident, either, that made him do it; I believe he has been set to watch us!"

From time to time, as they ate, Frank would report as to what the half-breed was doing; and while nothing occurred to actually prove the fact, still he saw no reason to change his mind.

"And I'm going to find out if he's keeping an eye on us, so as to report to his employer, Eugene Warringford," Frank announced, as they were drawing near the end of the meal.

"That sounds good to me," Bob remarked; "but how will you do it?"

For answer Frank drew out a paper from an inner pocket.

"You see this document," he observed, with a solemn look. "Well, it's only what you might call a dummy, being just an invitation I received a little while back to invest in some worthless mines over in the Hualpai Mountains of Mohave County. I kept it, meaning to figure out how these sharpers work their game. Now, when I hand you this, look deeply interested, as though it might be connected with the finding of Uncle Felix."

"Oh! I see your move, and go you one better, Frank."

For some little time they seemed to be conversing intently. Frank would occasionally tap the document, which he had sealed up in its envelope, as though he laid great stress on it. Finally he placed it on the table alongside his plate, and kept on talking.

Shortly afterward the boys left the table in apparently such a hurry that they both forgot the envelope that lay there, half hidden by a napkin.

Passing out of the room, they dodged back, and peered around the corner of the doorway.

"There's the waiter at the table," said Bob. "Now he's found the fine tip you left there, and is putting it in his pocket, with a grin. If everybody treated him as well as that, he'd soon be owning one of these hotels himself, Frank."

"Watch!" remarked his chum, in a low whisper. "Now he's discovered the document lying there where I left it. He takes it up. Perhaps he sees another dollar coming to him when he runs after us to return it."

"But there's somebody at his elbow," Bob went on to say; "and it's Abajo, as sure as you live. He's saying something, and I reckon telling the waiter that you asked him to get the packet. There, he slips some money in the fellow's hand; and the waiter lets him take the envelope. And we'd better slip behind this coat rack here, for Abajo will be heading this way in a hurry."

And hardly had they carried out that programme ere the half-breed glided past, one hand held in the pocket where he had thrust the "valuable" document!Contents