During Thanksgiving vacation Mr. Allen was going to have a three days’ camp at the Roost, so Ham and Willis were planning on making a preliminary trip, to find out how deep the snow was and just what condition the canyon was in.

The circus was over, and had been a big success; enough money had been raised to pay all the debts and leave a nice amount for future improvements.  Meanwhile Ham and Willis had become inseparable companions, so much so, that Willis had taken him into the mystery of his father’s mine.  Very often they had talked it over together, but neither had yet arrived at any satisfactory conclusions.  The day chosen for their trip turned out to be bitter cold; but the other fellows were depending on them, and they must not fail.  They found it very difficult to climb the hogsback because of the snow, so when they reached the railroad they decided to follow it to Fairview rather than attempt the canyon trail.  As they plodded on they grew very cold.

“There is a dandy little pile of pitch-pine shavings on the hearth,” said Ham; “it won’t take long to get a fire.  We’ll play a joke on this cold snap yet, when we get inside the cabin.”  The walking was not bad until they reached the crest, but here the trail lay on the south side and was completely filled with snow.  Many of the drifts were shoulder-deep, so it took them nearly an hour to force their way from the ridge to the cabin.  Ham, to his surprise, had great difficulty in opening the lock; it was evident that it had been tampered with.  As they entered, he noticed that his little pile of shavings were gone from the hearth.  Some one had been inside!

How much heat it seemed to take that night to warm that frigid air!  They piled in the great logs until the fireplace was full, and still they had to sit close to keep warm.  Slowly the cold was driven out, and the cabin became more comfortable.  Willis took the water bucket and an ax and went out to the stream for water, but the ice was a foot thick and the water so cold that it froze in the bucket before he got it back to the cabin.  As he set the bucket on the shelf, he noticed that the mirror which hung above the bucket was broken into a thousand pieces.  No doubt a bullet had come in through the chinking.  Was this a declaration of war?  Or had some rowdy just been showing off?  They examined things carefully, but found nothing missing but the chips, not even food.  Ham could not imagine why the kindling had been removed from the hearth, for he was positive that no fire had been built in either the stove or the fireplace since they had last been there.

After they had warmed sufficiently, they began to think of supper.  Ham selected a can of clam soup from the shelf and opened it, but it was frozen solid.  He set it by the fire to thaw out and made a second selection.  This time he chose a can of beans, but found them in the same condition.  He looked in the bread box—­the rye-bread was as hard as a bullet.  They pulled the table close up before the fire and made out a supper, the best thing on the menu being a pot of boiling-hot tea.