the uplands, plunging into a land of deep gorges and great chasms. Here
manzanita grew and liveoaks flourished. They sent a whitetail buck
crashing through the brush into a cañon.

When night fell they built a fire of niggerheads and after they had eaten
found its glow grateful. For they were well up in the hills now and the
night air was sharp.

In the sandy desert they had followed easily the trail of the thieves,
but as they had got into the hills the tracks had become fainter and
fewer. The young men discussed this while they lay in their blankets in
a water-gutted gulch not too near the fire they had built.

"Like huntin' for a needle in a haystack," said Bob. "Their trail's done
petered out. They might be in any one of a hundred pockets right close,
or they may have bore 'way off to the right. All they got to do is hole
up and not build any fires."

"Fat chance we got," admitted Dave. "Unless they build a fire like we
done. Say, I'd a heap rather be sleepin' here than by that niggerhead
blaze to-night. They might creep up and try to gun us."

Before they had been in the saddle an hour next day the trail of the
thieves was lost. The pursuers spent till sunset trying to pick it up
again. The third day was wasted in aimless drifting among the defiles
of the mountains.

"No use, Bob," said his friend while they were cooking supper. "They've
made their getaway. Might as well drift back to Malapi, don't you
reckon?"