“Well, of all things,” he said, as he looked up laughingly at Ham; “we have located our mysterious robber.  Here are all of our precious fire starters.”  Ham stooped to see for himself, and there, under the stove in the corner, was a neat little pile of pine slivers.

“If that rat lived in the city,” observed Ham, “he’d be a shoplifter, sure.  It’s strange he hasn’t stolen our food?”

“Ham, I’m going to the mine.  Do you want to stay here or go along?” Ham thought a moment, then began to pull on his coat.  As he passed the fireplace, he threw on another log, then the two boys stepped out into the morning air.  Ham carefully locked the door behind them—­he always took that precaution.

“I’d like to know who tried to get into this house, Willis?” he said as they struck the trail following the footprints of the earlier party up the canyon.  The sound of hammering still came occasionally from the hill.

“Perhaps it was the same men that passed this morning,” replied Willis.  “I wonder why they didn’t stop and try the door; they must have seen that it was unlocked.”

“Perhaps they wanted to pass unnoticed.”

“No, that couldn’t be, for they were talking loudly as they passed.”

“Perhaps they didn’t notice the cabin door at all.”

“Perhaps not, but they must have noticed our trail over the bridge and your footprints to the stream.”

“O, I don’t know; it snowed in the night, and besides, you see they were on the upper trail.  They evidently came for some special purpose, and were anxious to get at it.  You know, I’ve been thinking they must have come from Bruin Inn this morning, because they couldn’t have gotten here so early if they had come all the way from the city.”

“By Jove, boy!  I hadn’t thought of that, but since you speak of it, there certainly was something familiar in one of those voices, and that laugh!  Why, of course, it was Old Ben, his dog, and some stranger.”

Progress was slow, for the snow was deep in places.  At the old tumbled-down cabin the trail turned and ran up the mountain side.  Willis felt a strange pounding at his heart.  The noise on the mountain had stopped, but every now and then he heard the sound of voices from somewhere up in the timber.  As they reached the last turn in the trail, the two figures came into view.  Ham had been correct in his supposition—­one of the men was Old Ben, but the other was a stranger.  Ben had, no doubt, seen the boys coming, for he stood looking down the trail toward them.  When they were a little nearer he saluted them:  “Howdy, young’uns.  This is a tarnal cold morning for a pair o’ city fellers, ain’t it?”

“Not on your life,” cheerily answered Ham; “there’s nothing citified about us.  Any one who could sleep in these hills a night like last night and not freeze is no tenderfoot.  What brings you up here so early this morning?”

“Early, boys?  You’re so tarnal lazy, you think dinner time is early.  See anything o’ my dog round the cabin?”