The youth did listen, and at the same time swept the plain with his
eagle eyes, in search of the object from which the cries emanated. But
nothing of animal life was visible in any direction beyond the train,
and more was the mystery, since the cries sounded but a little way
off.

"They _are_ human cries!" exclaimed Fearless Frank, excitedly, "and
come from some one in distress. Boys, we must investigate this
matter."

"You can investigate all ye want," grunted Charity Joe, "but I hain't
a-goin' ter stop ther train till dusk, squawk or no squawk. I jedge we
won't get inter their Hills any too soon, as it ar'."

"You're an old fool!" retorted Frank, contemptuously. "I wouldn't be
as mean as you for all the gold in the Black Hills country, say
nothin' about that in California and Colorado."

He turned his horse's head toward the north, and rode away, followed,
to the wonder of all, by the "General."

"Ha! ha!" laughed Charity Joe, grimly, "I wish you success."

"You needn't; I do not want any of your wishes. I'm going to search
for the person who makes them cries, an' ef you don't want to wait,
why go to the deuce with your old train!"

"There ye err," shouted the guide: "I'm goin' ter Deadwood, instead uv
ter the deuce."