that if his other motive failed? For as he made his way up to the ridge
he was more than once assailed by doubts of the practical success of his
enterprise. In the excitement of last night, and even the hopefulness
of the early morning, it seemed an easy thing to persuade the vain and
eccentric highwayman that their interests might be identical, and
to convince him that his, Brice's, assistance to recover the stolen
greenbacks and insure the punishment of the robber, with the possible
addition of a reward from the express company, would be an inducement
for them to work together. The risks that he was running seemed to his
youthful fancy to atone for any defects in his logic or his plans. Yet
as he crossed the ridge, leaving the civilized highway behind him,
and descended the narrow trail, which grew wilder at each step, his
arguments seemed no longer so convincing. He now hurried forward,
however, with a feverish haste to anticipate the worst that might befall
him.

The trail grew more intricate in the deep ferns; the friendly little
footprint had vanished in this primeval wilderness. As he pushed through
the gorge, he could hear at last the roar of the North Fork forcing its
way through the canyon that crossed the gorge at right angles. At last
he reached its current, shut in by two narrow precipitous walls that
were spanned five hundred feet above by the stage road over a perilous
bridge. As he approached the gloomy canyon, he remembered that the
river, seen from above, seemed to have no banks, but to have cut its way
through the solid rock.

He found, however, a faint ledge made by caught driftwood from the
current and the debris of the overhanging cliffs. Again the narrow
footprint on the ooze was his guide. At last, emerging from the canyon,
a strange view burst upon his sight. The river turned abruptly to the