"Always! Fellows like you are as lonesome without a gun as they are
without a skin."

Ronicky turned at the door and laughed back at the gloomy face, and
then they were gone down the steps and into the street.




Chapter Six


_The New York Trail_

On the train to New York that night they carefully summed up their
prospects and what they had gained.

"We started at pretty near nothing," said Ronicky. He was a
professional optimist. "We had a picture of a girl, and we knew she
was on a certain train bound East, three or four weeks ago. That's all
we knew. Now we know her name is Caroline Smith, and that she lives
where she can see the East River out of her back window. I guess that
narrows it down pretty close, doesn't it, Bill?"

"Close?" asked Bill. "Close, did you say?" "Well, we know the trail,"
said Ronicky cheerily. "All we've got to do is to locate the shack
that stands beside that trail. For old mountain men like us that ought
to be nothing. What sort of a stream is this East River, though?"