FOR a week the caravan party moved on. They had gotten away from the railroad and were following an ancient trail which wound southward to the timber-lands of the Yellowstone, passing through valleys and canyons and over upland summits, now faint and grass-grown, now lost in the sand drifts, but always reappearing and always re-discovered by Jim's trained eyes. The journey across the state was to last several weeks, and the caravaners were in no hurry to accomplish it.

One morning Ruth came to the tent door, dressed before any of the girls. She stood for a moment looking about her and then waved her hand to Jim, who was chopping a big log of wood that Carlos had dragged into the camp the night before. "Mr. Jim," she called, "do you think there is any special need of our traveling to-day? The girls and I have been talking things over and we think that we and the horses need a rest. This is such an enchanting place, anyhow, I feel this morning I would like to spend my life here."

Jim stalked over to the tent, with his face as radiant as the morning. He had his arms full of wood, and the string of shining fish over his shoulder showed that he had been up and at work for several hours. "Sure," he agreed heartily. "I'd like nothing better than to loaf a while in this part of the country. I've got some harness to mend and a lot of odd jobs to do, and this is sure the prettiest spot we've seen."

The wagon and horses were a little distance from the ranch girls' tent, but still in plain view. The tent was at the head of a silver stream that ran like a ribbon through a green oasis of "gramma" grass. In the distance rocks that looked like battlements rose on either side of a deep gorge, and dimly seen farther on were hoary old mountain tops with their peaked caps of snow.

Ruth laughed. "An honest confession is good for the soul, isn't it? I should have told you that my real reason for not wishing to move on to-day is that I simply have got to do some housekeeping. My New England soul is racked by the way our pots and pans are looking, and Jean says if she doesn't have a chance to wash the sand out of her hair she will have to cut it off and wear a wig. If you'll make up the fire for me, I'll get breakfast in a minute; the girls already are starving."

"Then why don't one of them come out and help you cook?" Jim demanded autocratically. "I'm plumb afraid they are putting too much of the work on you."

"Injustice, thy name is Jim Colter!" Jack exclaimed at this minute, appearing before the fire with a sleepy look in her gray eyes, and a coffeepot in her hand. "I told Ruth I'd get breakfast this morning, so run away, Ruthie, and help Frieda find her clothes; she is in the depth of despair about one of her shoes. And tell Jean and Olive they must set the table."

Jim swung his fish before Jack's delighted eyes. "I'll cook these, Missie," he said calmly. "I don't believe I care to trust you."

"All right. I'll fry the bacon to go with them," Jack returned in her most professional cook manner. "I like the odor of bacon these mornings in camp better than any flower that blooms. Isn't it great that we have had a whole week of perfect sunshiny weather?"

The camp breakfast did not take much more than half an hour to get, though it was a pretty substantial meal. Coffee and chunks of toasted bread, fish, bacon, marmalade and jam, and this morning fresh water from the near-by spring, formed the menu. It took quite as long to eat, however, as the most elaborate repast served by a fashionable New York hotel. Jim moved over a little nearer the fire to be farther away from the girls when he finished. He got out his favorite pipe and tenderly snuggled the tobacco into it, and Jack saw the thought of the day's chores fade gently from his mind and a reminiscent light come into his eyes. Ruth was no longer overcome by household cares. The day stretched on before them, apparently an endless chain of golden opportunities to do nothing.

"I was around in this neighborhood once before," Jim remarked casually. This was as near as Jim had ever gotten to being confidential, and Jean and Jack exchanged glances.

"What were you doing here, Jim?" Jack queried, trying to make her voice appear perfectly indifferent. Jim hunched his big shoulders and took a long puff at his pipe. "I was prospecting for gold, same as every other young idiot that ever came west not knowing a lump of gold from a chunk of mud when he found it," he returned calmly. "There are three little pine cone hills a matter of ten miles from here, with an ugly stream of water and a group of trees near them, where I believe I had a claim located once, a good many moons ago."

"And you never told us a word about it. Jim Colter, you are a pig!" Jean declared inelegantly.

"There wasn't nothing to tell, Jean," Jim replied in his usual slow, indifferent manner. "Just another fellow and I saw a hill with some bits of black rock with yellow streaks in it, and we dug away for a couple of months without getting anything out of it but trouble."

"Jim, I don't believe there wasn't gold in your mine," Jean declared resolutely. "You just gave up too soon."

"All right, Miss Bruce," Jim agreed. "You can have my claim if you want it. Come to find out, we weren't the first and I don't reckon we were the last fellows to go digging in that hill. It's called 'Miner's Folly', and is about as gloomy a looking hole as anybody ever saw."

"I'd like to see the place awfully, Jim," Jack suggested eagerly.

"Don't doubt it for a moment, Jack," Jim returned unwinkingly.

Jack whispered something in Jean's ear. "I'll do no such thing, Jack Ralston," Jean replied firmly. "Remember, yesterday you were awfully selfish about letting me have my turn at riding horseback with Olive. I told you then I shouldn't do the next favor you asked me and I certainly don't mean to wear myself out on such a tramp. Besides, Jim wouldn't think of taking you."

"Wouldn't you, Jim?" Jack pleaded meekly.

Jim appeared to have no ears.

Jack slipped around by the fire and dropped a few pine cones on it.

"Wouldn't you kind of like to see that old mine you deserted, Jim?" Jack queried. "Suppose there is any change in it? Maybe it has turned out to be a really valuable claim since your day and you have never heard of it."

Jim shook his head, but Jack saw that she had lighted the fires of desire in his soul. "Maybe I will walk over toward the old spot just to see what the scenery is like, when I finish my work," Jim admitted, a few minutes later, and his admission spelt defeat.

An hour after, Jim Colter and Jack Ralston set out with their rifles over their shoulders and their pockets stuffed with provisions, to find Jim's unlucky mine. Little brown Carlos followed them like a persistent, though distant shadow. He had been ordered by Jim to stay near the tent, water the horses and make himself generally useful, for Jim did not believe that he and Jack could get back from their fool's errand before bedtime. Of course, Jim did not consider that the girls he left behind would get into danger or mischief in his absence, or he would never have gone; but they had met with no rough characters on their journey and the country seemed perfectly safe. Neither Ruth nor Olive nor Jean objected to being left alone; indeed, they were rather glad to get rid of the man of their party for a little while. Ruth was worried only for fear Jack would get overtired from her long walk; she did not dream that any other trouble might befall her with Jim as her escort.

"Slow but sure, Jack. Remember, you promised to trust to my judgment on this trip," Jim suggested kindly, when after several miles of travel Jack showed no signs of fatigue.

"All right, I remember," Jack answered obediently. "Let's sit down."

The two travelers had reached the deep gorge which they had seen from their tent, and Jim recalled that the trail to the old mine had followed this ravine for a part of the way and then branched off across country to the west.

Jack's sudden backward glance caught sight of a moving figure behind them. In a moment she recognized Carlos and wondered what Jim would say to him, for she knew he could be pretty fierce and savage when he was disobeyed.

"There's Carlos," Jack pleaded meekly; "don't be hard on him."

"I've known he was after us for the last half hour," Jim replied curtly. "Carlos, come here."

Carlos had been creeping along through the grass in Indian fashion, but now he straightened up his lithe body and came straight toward Jim. Jack knew he was horribly frightened and so she couldn't help but admire the boy's sudden grip on himself. He looked straight into the "Big White Chief's" eyes; only once his eyelids twitched.

"Why did you come with us when I said stay behind?" Jim demanded quietly with his own peculiar sternness.

The boy hesitated; but an Indian does not lie to his friends. "I heard you speak of the cave of the never-found gold," Carlos answered simply. "The Indians of the plains now know the value of the white man's gold. Often have I followed them into the desert to search for it in vain. For nothing else would I leave the women whom you gave me to tend, but I too must see the place of which you speak."

Jim groaned, and Jack laughed lightly. "Come on, Carlos," she said kindly. "Partner," she turned to Jim, "no matter what happens from this day's outing, remember you are responsible for planting the gold microbe in Carlos and me." For the rest of their tramp Jack could not but amuse herself, whenever her companions were silent, with wild dreams of what joy it would be for them to come across a gold mine and get suddenly very rich. She kept guessing and planning what she and the other girls would do. More than anything, she wished to play fairy godmother to the overseer of their ranch. During the week of their caravan trip, Jim had showed so plainly that only Ruth and Frieda were still unconscious of it, how much he cared for the ranch girl's chaperon. And Jack knew how little, except the strength of his love, he had to offer her. Jim had been running the Rainbow Ranch, receiving a salary so small for the value of his services that it made Jack blush to think of it.

Time after time had she begged him to manage the ranch on shares, but he had always refused, saying he had no need of money, and the place made only enough to pay expenses, take care of the girls, and put a little by for their futures. And Jim knew they would need more money some day if they were ever to see anything of the great world which lay outside their ranch lands.

Jim paid no heed to Jack's unnatural silence, for his mind was fixed on a discovery that absorbed his entire interest. Other travelers had lately crossed the trail which he and his companions were following. Footprints were fresh upon it, and in an out-of-the-way spot a tin can showed a bright new label. The footprints not only followed the path along the side of the ravine, but marked the same track through the more open country. Without these signs, Jim knew he could never have traced the old trail so easily, yet he felt the gold prospector's hot glow of resentment—another man had located his claim. Then he smiled, remembering he had turned his back on it as no good, nearly fourteen years before. Without a word to his companions, however, he kept his eyes fastened steadfastly on the ground and his ears alert for every sound each step of the way, but no other human being appeared in the vast solitude. Once Jim and Jack sighted a covey of quail and killed half a dozen. Ruth and the other girls were willing to eat quail so long as they did not have to see them killed.

About three o'clock in the afternoon the travelers had their first vision of Jim's three pine cone hills with the stream of brackish water running down the side of one of them, and in the background a dense thicket of evergreens. Forgetting their tired feet, Jack and Carlos made a sudden rush, but Jim caught hold of them, making them keep close to his side until he saw the place was deserted. At last he brought them in breathless silence to a yawning cave in the middle hill. It was only a great, black hole, dull and uninteresting. Jack peered well into it for a sign of anything that sparkled or shone like a precious metal. It showed only a mixture of earth and stones and sand, and the whole place was so gloomy it gave her a shiver of apprehension. The sun was not so bright as it had been a short time before. Suddenly she felt cold and weary, though she could not explain the cause.

"It's a pretty dismal place, isn't it, Jim?" Jack said quickly. "I am awfully glad to have seen it of course, but I don't wonder you ran away. I am sure no gold could be discovered here." And the girl heaved a sigh of fatigue and disappointment. She was sure she had made the trip simply from idle curiosity, yet the chance of their finding a gold mine had been lurking in the back of her mind.

Jim was stalking about the deserted mine like a hound that had been given a scent. He had seen, not far from one of the hills, a piled-up heap of ashes, which showed that a fire had been built there within the past few days, and the rank grass in the vicinity pressed down by human bodies. Jack had picked up a tool from the earth immediately in front of the mine, and the tool had been lately used.

"Wait here for me, Jack," Jim suggested finally. "I know you are tired and need a rest before we start back. Carlos, look after Miss Jack and don't go out of sight. I want to explore the neighborhood a bit. I will not be long. Nothing will happen, but if you want me call out."

Jack paid no special attention to Jim's departure. She found a comfortable place, sat down and closed her eyes. How soon she fell asleep she did not know, but she heard no sound from Carlos when he slipped away into the woods back of them. Tempted by the possession of a new gun, the boy disobeyed a second time that day.