“That’s right,” said Newman.  “Are you sure we aren’t wasting time, Billy?”

Billy turned in the saddle to face them.

“Well, boys,” he said, “you’ve got half the county scratching the desert with a fine-tooth comb.  I don’t see how we three can help very much there.  On the other hand we might do some good up here.  Now I’ll make a bargain with you.  If by midnight tonight we ain’t struck any trace of her, you folks can quit.”

“And what will you do?” asked Jack.

“Me?” Billy shrugged his shoulders.  “Why, I’ll keep on this trail till my legs is wore off above my boots!” and he turned to guide his pony up a little branch trail at the top of which stood a tent with the telltale windlass and forge close by.

Before the tent they drew rein.  In response to Billy’s call a rough-bearded fellow lifted the tent flap and stood suppressing a yawn, as if visitors to his lonely claim were of daily occurrence.

“Say, friend,” said Billy, “do you know Newman’s ranch?”

“Sure,” returned the prospector.

“Well, this is Mr. Newman.  A young lady has been visiting him and his wife.  She disappeared night before last.  We suspicion that Cartwell, that educated Injun, has stole her.  We’re trying to find his trail.  Can you give us a hunch?”

The sleepy look left the prospector’s eyes.  He crossed the rocks to put a hand on Billy’s pommel.

“Gee!  Ain’t that ungodly!” he exclaimed.  “I ain’t seen a soul.  But night before last I heard a screaming in my sleep.  It woke me up but when I got out here I couldn’t hear a thing.  It was faint and far away and I decided it was a wildcat.  Do you suppose it was her?”

DeWitt ground his teeth together and his hands shook but he made no sound.  Jack breathed heavily.

“You think it was a woman?” asked Billy hoarsely.

The prospector spoke hesitatingly.

“If I’d been shore, I’d a gone on a hunt.  But it was all kind of in my sleep.  It was from way back in the mountain there.”

“Thanks,” said Billy, “we’ll be on our way.”

“It’s four o’clock.  Better stop and have some grub with me, then I’ll join in and help you.”

“No!” cried DeWitt, breaking his silence.  “No!”

“That’s the young lady’s financier,” said Billy, nodding toward John.

“Sho!” said the prospector sympathetically.

Billy lifted his reins.

“Thanks, we’ll be getting along, I guess.  Just as much obliged to you.  We’ll water here in your spring.”

They moved on in the direction whither the prospector had pointed.  They rode in silence.  Dawn came slowly, clearly.  The peaks lifted magnificently, range after range against the rosy sky.  There was no trail.  They followed the possible way.  The patient little cow ponies clambered over rocks and slid down inclines of a frightful angle as cleverly as mountain goats.  At ten o’clock, they stopped for breakfast and a three hours’ sleep.  It was some time before DeWitt could be persuaded to lie down but at last, perceiving that he was keeping the others from their rest, he took his blanket to the edge of the ledge and lay down.