The Racer Boys on the Prairies

"WHAT IS HE AFRAID OF?"

"Say, there are the Racer boys back!"

"That's great! Now the fun will start!"

"It sure will. I was afraid they weren't coming here this term."

"Say, Riverview Hall wouldn't know how to get along without 'em."

"Guess you're right."

"Hello, Andy!"

"Hi, there, Frank!"

A group of students who had been skylarking about the boarding school campus, made a rush for the two lads who were slowly advancing across the green stretch.

It was early in the year, and the weather, which had been wet and rather cold, was now turning into balmy spring, with the feeling of baseball in the air. The Easter vacation was over, and the new term at Riverview Hall would open in a few days. Some of the students had already arrived, and more were coming. Among those who had made their appearance were Andy and Frank Racer, whose advent caused such delight to their chums.

"Now we'll have some baseball!" exclaimed Ward Platt, who could not seem to get along without some form of athletics. "Andy and Frank will just make up enough so we can have two nines," he added.

"And we'll do something else besides play ball," declared Jack Sanderson.

"What?" asked John North.

"We've got to turn in, and get up some new kind of hazing for the Freshmen. There'll be a lot of 'em here this term, I understand."

"Good! The more the merrier!" exclaimed Duke Yardly.

"Well, come on and see what news Andy and Frank have," suggested Donald Burgess. "They're always doing something different, and there's no telling what it will be this time."

"That's right," agreed his chums, and they soon surrounded the two lads whose coming seemed to so liven up matters at Riverview Hall.

"How about you, Frank?" asked Ward Platt, as he grasped the elder of the two brothers by the hand.

"Fine," was the rather quiet answer. "And how about you and the other fellows?"

"Slick as axle grease," was the jolly answer.

"What have you been doing with yourself, Andy?" inquired Jack Sanderson, as he clapped the younger Racer lad on the back with such force that Andy gave forth a sound like a small bass drum.

"Prac-practicing!" gasped Andy, as soon as he could get his breath. "Just—practicing, Jack."

"Practicing what, you old mush-eater?" demanded the other. "Have you some new kind of baseball dope, or is it some place to go camping up at the North Pole?"

"Just practicing," replied Andy, who seemed to be trying to get in a certain position in regard to Jack. "Practicing this, old man!" he suddenly exclaimed, and with a quick push, a motion of his foot, and a shove, he sent Jack sprawling backward in the grass.

"That's one for you, Jack!" exclaimed Ward.

"Now will you be good?" demanded Donald Burgess.

"Did you say you wanted gravy on your eggs?" innocently inquired John North.

There was a general laugh as Jack slowly arose, looking rather dazed, for his fall had been a sudden one. He glanced sharply at Andy Racer.

"What did you say you had been doing?" he asked.

"Practicing," replied Andy, with just the suspicion of a grin on his face, that was still tanned from much out-of-door life. "Practicing that trip-up. It's a form of Japanese wrestling, and a fellow back home showed it to me. I've been practicing up on it during the Easter vacation, and I wanted to see if I could work it."

"Oh, you can work it all right!" exclaimed Jack, carefully feeling his elbow. "Let's see how it's done."

"All right," agreed Andy with a readiness that was all too apparent. "Stand up just as you did before, and——"

"Not on your life!" exclaimed Jack, backing away. "No you don't! Once in a day is enough. I meant just show me the motions."

"It's impossible to demonstrate it without a subject to work on," replied the younger Racer lad, while his brother and some of his chums were quietly laughing off to one side. "Come on; I won't throw you hard."

"No, you don't!" went on Jack, still backing away. "Try it on someone else for a change."

"All right," readily agreed Andy. "This is how it's done," and before John North was aware of what was about to happen, Andy turned on him suddenly, and, in an instant, though he tried to save himself by grappling with Andy, John, too, went down.

"Say, that's a dandy trip, all right!" exclaimed Henry Walker. "Come on now, Andy, show us how it's done without sending us head over heels."

"No, the price of admission is one fall!" insisted Andy, who was quite proud of his accomplishment.

"Up to his old tricks; isn't he?" asked Jack of Frank, who was quietly regarding his younger brother.

"Yes, I'm afraid he'll never get over 'em. Andy sees a joke in everything, or, if it isn't there, he'll make it."

"Oh, that's all right. It's a good thing. What's the use of being gloomy? I'm going to get him to show me how it's done."

"Why are you so anxious to learn?"

"Oh, it'll come in mighty useful when we start hazing some of the Freshmen. There are some husky ones here this term, and we'll have our hands full making them walk the chalk line."

"Many here yet?" asked Frank.

"Yes, quite a few, and more are coming."

"Any nice fellows?"

"Yes, lots; to judge by the looks. Since the school has been renovated, thanks to you and Andy, we get a better class of fellows. Yes, there are some nice chaps here, and one fellow who seems to have something of a mystery about him."

"A mystery?" asked Frank, wonderingly.

"Yes, he acts just as if he——"

But Jack suddenly interrupted himself by exclaiming:

"There, Andy's showing how he does that tripping act. I must get next to how it's done. Come on—though I suppose you know," and he started away from Frank.

"No, I don't know the secret of it," admitted the elder Racer lad. "Andy fooled me with it once or twice until I invented a new way to stand him on his head, and then he quit."

"I see!" laughed Jack. "But come on over," and he led the way toward where Andy stood, surrounded by a group of admiring lads.

"But you started to say something about a mysterious Freshman," suggested Frank, who liked to follow up matters.

"Tell you about it later," promised Jack, and he pushed his way into the throng about Andy. "I want to see this first."

Andy was demonstrating his famous "double-hammer-grip-half-Nelson-three-quarter-leg-lock-hold-trip," as it was afterward christened.

"You just put up your right arm so," said Andy to John North, "and then you stick out your left foot, and then you take hold of the other fellow's left hand. Then you take a long breath, lean against him, draw back your other foot and—there you are!"

As Andy spoke John was forced to execute a twist, and found himself sitting on the grass, looking at his companions with such a strange expression that they couldn't help laughing.

"That's how it's done," said Andy, with just a trace of a laugh.

"So—so I see," grunted John, as he arose.

"Oh, rats!" exclaimed Jack. "I thought you were going to do it slow, so we could see the different motions."

"That's the trouble with it," went on Andy. "It has to be done quickly, or it won't work, proving to you that I have nothing up my sleeves," he went on, in the tone of a professional magician; "and that the hand is quicker than the eye. Ahem!"

"Oh, cut it out!" yelled several.

"Yes, show us how it's done. We're all friends of yours," went on Jack. "We may need it in our business when it comes to hazing the Freshmen."

"All right, I'll show you," and with that Andy proceeded to demonstrate slowly, and with much explanation, how the trick fall was brought about. It was really a knack of making the other lad trip himself, by pulling him forward, and then suddenly compelling him to change his center of gravity; and Andy had it down to perfection.

"Say, that's all to the fried eggs!" exclaimed John North, admiringly, when the explanation was completed.

"It sure is," agreed Jack. "I wonder if I can do it?"

He tried, but was not very successful, and then some of the others began imitating it, with Andy standing by and giving words of advice.

"Say, haven't you had enough of this?" asked Frank Racer after a while. "Come on, Andy; we've got to see about our room, and get our things in shape. I want the trunks brought up from the station."

"All right, I'm coming," replied his brother. "No, that's not the way to put out your foot, Jack," and he started toward his chum.

"No, you don't!" exclaimed the latter, backing away. As he did so he glanced across the campus, and at the sight of a solitary figure advancing toward one of the dormitories he uttered an exclamation. Then Jack glided to the side of Frank Racer and whispered to him:

"There he is!"

"Who?"

"That strange Freshman I was telling you about. Just watch him, and see how queer he acts."

The two watched while Andy once more went through his little wrestling lesson. The lad to whom Jack had pointed was about the build of Frank Racer, though slightly larger, and he seemed to be of athletic mould. Yet there was a curious air about him, and, as he walked on, he glanced over his shoulder from time to time, as though to make sure that he was not being followed.

"That's queer," commented Frank.

"It sure is," agreed Jack.

"Does he do that often?"

"All the while since he's been here."

"And how long is that?"

"Three days now. He arrived the day after I came. How does he strike you?"

"Why, just as if he was looking for someone to come up behind him, and hit him with a brick," said Frank.

"That's it, exactly."

"And yet, what is he afraid of?" went on the elder Racer lad. "What's going to happen to him here, I'd like to know?"

"And I don't know. That's the mystery of it. Ever since he's been here he's acted as though he was afraid of something going to happen, or as if someone was going to attack him. I've been watching him, trying to find out what it means, but I can't."

"What sort of a fellow is he otherwise?"

"Oh, good enough."

"What's his name, and where does he come from?"

"Chase—William Chase. I s'pose we'll call him Bill when we get to know him better. But at present it's William. And he comes from some place out west—I don't just know where—on the prairies, I fancy, from one or two remarks he's made."

By this time the strange lad had reached the dormitory. As he entered the doorway he wheeled about quickly as if to make sure that no one was following him, and, even at that distance, Frank and Jack could see a look of fear on his face.

"That is mighty queer," murmured Frank. "What is he afraid of? We'll have to look into this."

---

PLANNING THE HAZING

"What's your object?" asked Jack, as he linked his arm in that of his chum, and the two strolled over the campus.

"Object in what?" inquired Frank Racer.

"In looking into the mystery that seems to be hanging about this William Chase."

"Oh, I don't know as I have any particular object, except that I always like to solve a mystery—if I can. And again, I don't like to see any Riverview Hall lad act as this fellow does. It isn't a good sign. So, if it's all the same to you, Jack, we'll see what we can do toward getting at the bottom of this."

"Sure, I'm with you. And Andy will be in it, of course."

"He will if he can stop fooling long enough," rejoined Frank, glancing over to where his brother was still surrounded by a group of lads intent on learning the trick of the fall.

"Oh, Andy can settle down when he wants to," remarked Jack. "But let's go up and see what sort of a room you're going to have. Ward and I picked out ours, and there's one next to us that——"

"Say no more!" exclaimed Frank. "Andy and I will take that one. Hi, Andy!" he called in a tone of voice that his brother knew would allow of no further trifling.

"Coming!" yelled Andy, and with a last push that sent a would-be masterer of the art of tripping sprawling to the grass, the younger Racer ran to join his brother and Jack.

Frank looked toward the dormitory which the strange new lad had entered. He was no longer in sight, and as the elder Racer lad thought of his queer actions he wondered more and more.

"Here's something that needs looking into the first day we get back to school," he mused, as, surrounded by his chums, all talking at once, he walked toward the dormitory where he had roomed with his brother during the last term.

And now, if you will grant me a few minutes, I will tell you, as briefly as I can, something more about the Racer boys, and the affairs in which they have figured as set down in the previous books of this series.

The first volume was called "The Racer Boys," and in that I detailed how the two were at their summer home in Harbor View, and how they solved the mystery of the identity of a lad in a wrecked motor boat.

Andy and Frank Racer were the only sons of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Racer, of New York. Mr. Racer was a wealthy silk merchant. Andy was about a year younger than Frank, and of a fun-loving nature, always ready for a trick or a frolic, and generally so impetuous that he acted first and thought afterward. Frank was inclined to be the opposite, in that he was filled with determination, and he usually carefully thought out his plan of action before venturing to do an important thing.

Still, Frank liked fun, and was not a second behind his brother when it came to having a good time. He was fond of athletics, as indeed they both were, and they had made good showings on track and field.

How they had a battle with a whale, and how they brought the lad ashore from his wrecked boat; how they got on the track of the unscrupulous man who sought to harm him, and how they finally learned who "Paul Gale" was—all these are told in the first book.

In the second volume, entitled "The Racer Boys at Boarding School," our heroes found themselves in a different atmosphere. Their parents decided to send them to some institution of learning after their summer of activity at the shore, and for this purpose Riverview Hall was picked out. Almost at the start there was trouble. On the boat going to the school Frank and Andy defended a girl from the rude talk of a man who turned out to be Professor Thorndyke Callum, one of the teachers at Riverview Hall. Naturally Mr. Callum "had it in" for the two lads.

"Oh, what a punk school!" Andy Racer had exclaimed on reaching Riverview Hall. And indeed, though his language might not have been polite, it was very descriptive.

Riverview Hall was afflicted with "dry rot." It had fallen upon evil days, the trustees had no money to hire good instructors, and, indeed, there was hardly enough cash to keep the institution going. Dr. Wesley Doolittle, the head master, was doing his best, but he was more of a scholar than a financier.

In consequence the buildings were almost in ruins, there was hardly a decent bed in any dormitory, the football gridiron and the baseball diamond were overgrown with weeds, the rowing shells were wrecks, and the few lads at the place were dispirited.

Shortly after the advent of the Racer boys all this was changed. Frank and Andy were at first much discouraged at the poor condition of the school, but they agreed to "stick it out," and they did. They reorganized the football eleven, put the grounds into shape, fixed up a racing shell, got the baseball nine in running order, and soon Riverview Hall was again among the champions.

Then a millionaire, seeing a great football game in which our two heroes played, and learning how much they had done for the school, invested a large sum in it. So that Riverview Hall came into its own again, and among the improvements was the withdrawal of Professor Callum.

But before all the projected improvements could be made something else happened, as you will find related in detail in the third volume of this series, entitled "The Racer Boys to the Rescue."

Because of the failure of the heating system of the school there came an enforced vacation in the winter. The school had to close for repairs and the students went to their several homes.

Frank and Andy Racer took advantage of the unexpected vacation to go to the Maine woods on a hunting trip. Their uncle was a lumberman in that cold region, and the boys planned to go to one of his camps. They did go, taking Jack Sanderson and Ward Platt with them.

But, before they left they heard bad news from Tom Crawford, a student at Waterside Hall, a rival school of that attended by our heroes. Tom's little brother, Len, who was an invalid, had been at a sanitarium in Maine, and had wandered off in the woods. Then he was captured by some unscrupulous lumbermen, who held him for a ransom until the Racer boys got on the trail, and went to the rescue.

After their fun and adventures in camp the Racer boys and their chums returned to school, for the improvements were so far under way that it was more comfortable. The winter term passed, and the spring one came, with the Easter vacation. Then once more, the students went to their homes, and now, the start of the term that would end in the beginning of summer found our friends back again at Riverview Hall.

The school had not formally opened as yet, though many of the boys, including our heroes, had arrived to take possession of their rooms and get their belongings in shape. When Frank and Andy got there they found many of their chums to greet them, and the manner of that greeting I have already indicated.

"Well, fellows, what are we going to do?" asked Ward Platt, as he sat on Andy's bed, and tried to kick over a pile of clean clothes on the floor. Andy had taken them from his trunk and was about to put them in the bureau drawers. "Let's think of something flossy."

"Yes, it'll be flossy all right if you think of it," rejoined Andy.

"Oh, it will, eh?" and with that Ward succeeded in reaching, with the toe of his foot, the pile of collars, cuffs and other things. In another second they were scattered about the room.

"Here! what did you do that for?" yelled Andy.

"To show you that I could do something flossy," was the answer, and, with a quick motion, Ward took a back somersault over the bed, landing between it and the wall, where Andy could not reach him.

"I'll punch your nose!" went on Andy, as he saw his scattered garments. "I'll——"

"You'll cool down," advised his brother, in a quiet voice. "If you don't you'll have Flopps in here to help Mrs. Stone keep order."

"That's right," added Jack. "I saw Flopps just now spading up a flower bed, and he's right close."

"Oh, get out!" rejoined Andy. "Look at my clean collars and——"

"No business to call names," mocked Ward, from his place of vantage behind the bed. "Beg my pardon, and I'll call it square."

"I will—like pie!" exclaimed Andy. "The next time I catch you alone——"

"Now, now," came soothingly from Jack. "Go easy, boys. Don't get to scrapping so soon. We've got to stick together this term. There are lots of Freshmen—a big class—and they'll have it in for us, most likely. I was just wondering what we could do to 'em."

"Haze 'em," suggested Frank. "They'll have to have it sooner or later."

"Then the sooner the better," chimed in Andy. "Say, fellows, I've got a great scheme!" and in his eagerness to impart a joke he forgot his enmity against Ward, who ventured to come from behind the bed.

"Out with it," commanded Jack.

"Yes, we'll never have any peace until he does," commented Frank.

"And maybe not much afterward," added Ward. "That's the worst of Andy's jokes—there's always a come-back to them."

"Oh, you get out!" exclaimed the younger Racer lad. "I can think up just as good jokes as any of you fellows."

"Yes, but the trouble is that you get caught at 'em," added Ward, who seemed bound to pick at Andy.

"Let's hear what this one is," suggested Jack, who scented trouble between the two chums unless the dispute was quelled. "Go ahead, Andy. We'll all listen. Land knows we need something to wake us up. I've been here three days now, and not a thing has happened. We've been waiting for you two brothers to come and start something."

"Oh, I'll start it all right," declared Andy. "Now I've just thought of something in regard to this hazing. It'll be great!"

He went to the door, opened it softly and looked out; then closing and locking it, rejoined his companions. They had gathered in the room Frank and Andy had picked out—a room next to that occupied by Ward and Jack.

"Why all this gum-shoe business?" inquired Frank.

"Some of the Freshmen might be listening," replied his brother. "I saw one or two looking at us rather sharp as we came up here. We can't be too careful. Now for my plan."

His voice dropped to a whisper, as his companions drew more closely to him, and in a low voice Andy imparted his plan, pausing now and then to listen at the door. But, as far as he could tell, no one tried to listen at the portal.

"What do you think of it?" demanded Andy, at the conclusion of his talk.

"Great!" exclaimed Jack.

"I'll take back all I said about you," added Ward.

"If we can get the things it will be sport," declared Frank.

"Oh, we can get 'em in town all right," asserted Andy. "And I've got the cash, too."

"You ought to have—the first of the term," commented his brother, with a laugh.

"And now let the black work begin!" hissed Jack, after the manner of a stage villain. "Them is hard words, Kate!"

"You must give me them papers, villain!" exclaimed Frank, with mock heroics.

"Aw, cut out the fooling and get down to business, fellows," pleaded Andy. "There's lots to be done if we want to go at this hazing proper."

"All right, we're with you," assented Ward.

A little later four figures were seen strolling across the campus in the direction of a trolley line that ran to the town of Riverview. The boys were gone for some time, and there were many whisperings among them, as they came back, almost late to supper, for which Mrs. Stone, the matron, cautioned them.

A little later darkness covered Riverview Hall. That is the proper way to begin to tell this part of the story. Deep, dark, black darkness. In fact, as Andy remarked, you could easily tell that it was night.

From their rooms stole four figures.

"Are you all right, fellows?" whispered a voice.

"Of course, Andy," answered Frank. "Don't ask so many questions. Someone will hear you."

"Well, I don't want any slip-up," declared the younger Racer lad. "Is everything all right?"

"These whiskers tickle my face," complained Ward.

"A pity about you," snapped Andy. "Cheese it! Here comes someone!"

The four lads, who had reached the basement of the dormitory, crouched behind some packing cases, and waited in tense silence for what was to come next.

---

A NEEDLESS ALARM

"It's only Flopps!" exclaimed Jack, after a pause—made painful from the fact that the conspirators had to assume uncomfortable attitudes because of the sudden alarm.

"That's right, so it is," agreed Ward, looking over the top of a packing case, and seeing the gardener putting away some of the implements he had used that day. "He's all right."

"Hold on!" exclaimed Andy in a whisper, as he saw the others about to leave their place of concealment, to proceed with the hazing operations that were under way.

"What's the matter now?" demanded Frank.

"If he sees the way we're togged up he'll raise a row sure," explained Andy. "He won't know us, and he'll think we're black-handers or something like that. He'll bring every professor and monitor out on the run. Lay low for another minute and he'll go out."

"I guess that's right," admitted Frank. "Andy is getting sense in his old age."

Once more the four crouched behind the cases, and watched the gardener in the dimly-lighted basement. Having put away the rake, spade and hoe, Flopps proceeded to put out the gas he had lighted, and left.

"Clear coast," announced Andy, after an observation. "Now to make the Freshmen know what's what. You notified the other fellows, didn't you?" he inquired of his brother and chums.

"Sure," asserted Frank. "They'll meet us outside."

The four proceeded cautiously until they had emerged from the lower part of the dormitory. They found some of their friends waiting for them, they, too, having eluded the vigilance of monitors and suspicious professors.

"Let's see," remarked Andy, in a low voice. "There are eight of us here."

"Six are coming from the West dormitory," volunteered John North.

"And ten from Bradley Hall," added Duke Yardly, referring to a new dormitory where some of the older students had rooms.

"Then we'll have enough for a start," commented Andy. As he spoke he advanced into a stray beam of light from a school window.

"For cats' sake, what have you on your face?" gasped Duke.

"That's our disguise," explained the younger Racer lad. "We're going to treat the Freshies to a new kind of hazing—a surprise, and we want you fellows to join in. Now I'll explain," and he did, at some length.

"Say! That's great!" exclaimed Donald Burgess. "How'd you think of that, Andy?"

"Oh, Andy's think-tank is always working," asserted his brother—"at least it is when it comes to such things as this. Now if it was a geometry proposition, or a Latin construction——"

"Oh, I'm as good at boning as you are," retorted Andy. "Here come the other fellows. Now I've got to tell them how to behave. You see the game is this," he went on. "You chaps will start in on the regular hazing stunts—making 'em eat salt, doing a dance, standing on their heads, and all that. Then in the midst of it we four will come bursting in, and—well, we'll see what will happen."

"That's right!" cried Tom Bennett, admiringly. "This will make a sensation all right!"

A number of luckless Freshmen had gathered for common communion and consolation in the large hall of the dormitory set aside for their special use. They were commiserating one with the other, wondering what sort of hazing would be meted out to them—for it had been rumored that the ordeal would start that night. Shortly after ten o'clock into the place burst a crowd of Sophomores and Juniors.

"Up, boys, and at 'em!" came the cry, and then began the struggle between the two forces. The Freshmen were taken at a disadvantage, and were soon overpowered. Then, too, the first-term lads did not like to put up too much of a fight.

For, be it known, hazing, as practiced at Riverview, was a sort of ancient and honorable institution, not very severe, and the lad who put up too much of a protest against "taking his medicine," had life made miserable for him the rest of his time at school. So there was more or less submission, though there were one or two rather strenuous encounters.

The Freshmen were being put through their "stunts," and being made to do all sorts of ridiculous things, when the door of the room, that was being guarded by a committee of the hazers, suddenly flew open, and a quartette of masked and bewhiskered figures rushed in.

"Hands up!" came the sharp command, and objects that glittered menacingly in the light were held forward. "Hands up!"

Instantly there was confusion, the hazers uttering louder cries of amazement than did the Freshmen.

"Go through 'em, boys!" came the command from the foremost figure, who seemed to be the leader. "See if they've got any coin. Take only gold watches, though; we can't use the dollar kind. Lively!"

"Oh, they're burglars!" yelled one of the hazers.

"That's what!" snapped one of the masked figures. "Hands up, and keep 'em up!" came the sharp command.

"What right have you in here?" demanded Duke Yardly, in threatening tones. "This is a private school, and——"

"Nothing's private when we come in!" said the leader. "Go through 'em, boys. We two will keep 'em covered!"

While two of the masked and bewhiskered individuals held the glittering objects pointed toward the crowd of startled students, the other two began a quick but systematic search of their pockets. Loose change and bills were abstracted, together with several gold watches.

"Oh, please don't take that!" begged one Freshman, as a gold match box was brought to light. "My best—my mother gave me that."

"Best girl, you mean!" snapped the taller of the masked figures. "Take it, boys."

"This is a high-handed proceeding!" declared John North.

"If you can get your hands any higher, lift 'em," said one of the hold-up individuals, sarcastically.

"All present are accounted for," reported one of the searchers, as he advanced toward the two guards, holding a hat filled with a miscellaneous collection of treasures.

"Very good. Back to the cave. And if you fellows have any regard for your own welfare you won't follow," the taller looter added significantly. "You'll stay here five minutes without giving the alarm or——" He did not finish, but looked suggestively at the object in his hand.

Backing to the door, the four hold-up individuals slipped quickly out of it, and locked it after them, making the group of Freshmen and hazers prisoners. At once there burst out a riot of talk in the room, succeeded by chuckles of mirth from the quartette.

"Say, it went off like apple pie," said one of the masked figures.

"Couldn't have been better," added another.

"Someone's coming!" was the sudden warning.

All but one of the figures swung out of sight around the corner of the corridor. This figure, still holding the object that had cowed the students, was in full view of a hall light as someone advanced. Then, seeing that the newcomer was a pupil, the masked figure, making a threatening gesture, commanded:

"Hands up!"

The effect of the order was startling. The student with a quick motion fairly leaped at the masked figure, knocking the shining object to one side, at the same time exclaiming:

"Ha! So you thought you'd catch me off my guard, eh? You thought you could sneak in here and get it? Well, I've fooled you. I've been looking for you the last three days. I expected you'd come East after me. But it won't do you any good. Now I'm going to give the alarm!"

There was so much of menace and threat in the voice and action of the student that the masked figure gasped. There was a fierce struggle, and as the new student took a long breath in readiness to sound the cry of alarm, the masked one called out:

"Hold on, old man! It's only a joke. We're doing a hazing stunt. No harm intended. Let go my shoulder. You're needlessly alarmed. It's only a joke, I tell you."

For a moment the two stood confronting one another, locked in a fierce grip. Then, as the student seemed to believe the assurance given him, he asked:

"Then you're not after—not after my——"

"We're not after anything," was the answer. "It's a joke, I tell you," and, tearing off his mask, the pretended hold-up man revealed himself as Frank Racer.

---

A MYSTERIOUS MAN

"Say, it went off all right; didn't it?"

"And we sure had 'em going!"

"None of 'em suspected anything until after you fellows went out, and then we heard a laugh in the hall."

"That gave the thing away."

"Oh, but it was all right anyhow."

"And I guess they can sort out their own stuff."

"But what happened after you four left?"

These questions, comments, surmises and exclamations of admiration followed swiftly, one on the heels of the other, as Frank and Andy Racer, and several of their chums, gathered in the room of our heroes after the hazing.

Of course my readers know that the four "hold-up men" who entered while the hazing was in progress were Frank, Andy, Jack and Ward. They had disguised themselves with false beards and masks, and the game was to enter at the height of the hazing, pretending to be real burglars, and to take a few objects of value away from their own friends and many from the Freshmen.

The plan worked well, and few of the Freshmen suspected anything but that some real criminals, taking advantage of the fun at the school, had selected that opportunity to make a "haul."

"But what happened when you fellows went outside?" asked Donald Burgess. "There we were—Sophomores and Juniors—holding up our hands just like the Freshmen, and pretending to be more scared, all the while bemoaning the loss of our coin and jewelry. But something happened outside in the hall; didn't it?"

"There did," admitted Frank, and he told of meeting the lone student, and pretending to hold him up.

"I never saw a fellow act so queer," put in Andy. "We were keeping back, and letting Frank have his fun. Why, the fellow really thought he was up against a regular second-story man, I guess. He didn't show the white feather, though, and——"

"Who was he?" interrupted John North.

"Billy Chase," answered Frank. "I knew him the minute I saw him, and I thought I'd have some fun. But he didn't know me until I took off my mask."

"Billy Chase," murmured Jack, and it might be worthy of note that the formal "William" was dropped, and the more comradely name of "Billy" adopted. It was Billy Chase from then on, I might explain.

"Yes, Billy Chase," repeated Frank Racer. "The lad you spoke to me about—the lad who seems afraid of his own shadow."

"He wasn't afraid of a shadow to-night," commented Ward Platt, with a chuckle. "He went right at you, Frank."

"He sure did, and he's got a grip, too, let me tell you. Of course that was only a toy pistol I had, but he must have thought it was a real one. He got a hold on me and bent my arm back in regular Western style, so that, in case it had been a real gun, I couldn't have done anything. Oh, he's up to snuff all right, believe me!"

"And yet he seemed afraid you'd get something from him," commented Andy.

"Yes. That's the queer part of it. He must carry something valuable around with him, that he doesn't want someone to get."

"What happened after you told him who you were?" asked Ward.

"Oh, he seemed to wilt, and be sort of dazed. But I can't blame him. He had me 'buffaloed' for a while. It was a case of horse and horse. That Billy Chase is an all-right lad, I think, even if I did play a low-down trick on him. I think he'll make good, even if he is a Freshman."

"But what happened after we got out of the room?" asked Andy, in whose fertile brain the whole hazing joke had originated.

"Oh, we just stayed there, with our hands up in the air," explained John North. "Then some of the Freshmen began to get wise, and they soon saw some of us snickering. Then it was all up."

"We left their stuff on the big table in the lower hall," explained Andy. "It's all piled up there."

"And what about our stuff?" asked Duke Yardly quickly. "Did you mix it all up together there?"

"Sure we did," said Jack. "We didn't have time to separate it. Besides, we couldn't show favors. We robbed Freshmen and all you fellows alike. You can sort it out."

"Yes, we can!" exclaimed Duke in deep disgust. "It'll be just like those Freshman to hold on to our stuff, now that they're wise to the joke. Say, this didn't turn out the way I thought it would."

"That's always the way with Andy's jokes," remarked Herbert Waldron.

"Aw, let's see you get up a better one," challenged Andy, trying to get some of the glue from the false beard off his chin. "It was a peach, I think."

"Oh, it wasn't so bad," admitted Jack. "But it sure is queer about Billy Chase. I wonder what he's got back of him, anyhow?"

"Give it up," came from Andy. "Ouch! That pulled!" he exclaimed, as he removed a patch of the false hair.

Frank Racer said nothing, but there was a determined look on his face that spoke more than words. He had been much puzzled by the strange actions of the Freshman, and he made up his mind that he would find out more about him.

There came a knock on the door of the room where the chums were gathered. It produced instant silence.

"Come—come——" began Andy.

"Cheese it!" whispered Duke, hoarsely. "It's after hours and you've got lights!"

Then came another voice saying:

"Better cut for it, fellows; the proctor is on the job. Some of the Freshman have complained to him."

Andy Racer never moved more quickly than he did a moment later when he "doused the glim," to use Jack Sanderson's expression for putting out the light. Then in silence and darkness the guests of the Racer boys filed out into the hall, and sought their own rooms. The fun of the night was over.

"Well, how about you?" asked Andy of Frank, as they were about to turn in. The proctor had just knocked on their door to inquire if they were in bed. They had answered that they were—with their clothes on—but they did not mention the latter fact.

"Oh, I guess we might as well go to bed," remarked Frank, as he stretched out on the mattress. "We've had a strenuous day, and there are more ahead of us."

"Of course," assented Andy. "We didn't half finish with the hazing."

"And I haven't half finished thinking about the queer way Billy Chase acted," went on his brother. "There's something strange going on here, Andy, and it's up to us to find it out."

"How do you mean?"

"Why, I mean that this lad is evidently carrying something valuable about with him, and he's afraid of being robbed. That's what he thought I was after. He seems like a nice chap, and I want to help him, if I can."

"So do—I," murmured Andy sleepily.

"Get out!" exclaimed Frank. "You'll play a joke on him first chance you get."

"Sure I will—why not? Goo' ni'——" and Andy was too sleepy to finish.

The hazing and the subsequent advent of the masked figures, who were at first taken for thieves, was the talk of the school the next day. The joke was on the Freshmen, of course, and they were a long time hearing the last of it.

But, in a measure, they succeeded in "getting back" at their traditional enemies, for, after Frank, Andy, Jack and Ward had left the money and watches in an indiscriminate heap, the Freshmen hid that part of the spoils belonging to the other students, and it was some time before each lad found his own.

But the affair was taken in the right spirit, and Andy received proper credit for originating it. More new students arrived at Riverview, and several of the former friends of our heroes came back. The next few days were full of activity at the school.

"We've just got to get out on the diamond!" exclaimed Ward, one warm afternoon. "Come on, fellows, let's get up two scrub nines and have a game."

"I'm with you!" cried Andy.

"Sure thing!" added Frank.

"Let the Racer boys be the captains," came from Ward.

"Sure!" was the general assent, and soon Frank and Andy were choosing sides.

"Want to come in?" asked Frank, of Billy Chase, who sauntered up when almost the last player had been picked.

"Well, I'm not very good at it, but I'd like to get in the game."

"All right then. I'll put you out in the field. By the way, no hard feelings about the other night, I hope?"

"Not at all," laughed Billy. "I sure did take you for a hold-up man, though. And as I'm carrying about with me some valuable——" He seemed to recollect himself suddenly, and stopped with a jerk. "Oh, no hard feelings at all," he said presently. "I can take a joke."

"Glad of it," spoke Frank. "Well, let's play ball."

The impromptu game began. The playing was rather ragged, for it was the first real contest of the season, and none of the lads was in form. But it was lots of fun for all that.

Andy was at the bat, and Frank's side was in the field. Andy knocked what ought to have been a three-bagger, out in center field, seemingly away over the player's head, and beyond him. But, by a phenomenal run, and a quick jump, Billy Chase gathered in the ball, retiring the side.

"Good catch!"

"Pretty play, old man!"

These and many other cries greeted his performance.

"And he said he could only play a little," mused Frank. "I guess it's Billy for the main nine, all right."

Frank's side came to bat. Quite a fringe of student spectators had gathered to watch the game, and there were also some town lads and men from Riverview, for the gates to the ball field were not closed, and anyone might come in.

Billy Chase went to bat first. As he took his place the opposing catcher signalled that he wanted a few practice balls. Billy stepped away from the plate.

A moment later he started violently, and Frank, who saw him, looked to note the cause.

On the outer edge of the crowd of spectators Frank saw a man standing regarding Billy with an earnest gaze. He was a man of powerful build—a "Westerner" if such a description is permissible—a man with a very black beard. As Frank looked at him he thought of the false black beards he and his chums had worn the night of the hazing. This man's beard was exactly like them, and yet it was obviously not false.

---

---

As the man gazed at Billy, the student suddenly threw down his bat and, approaching Frank said:

"Put some one else in my place. I can't play."

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't want to. I—er—I've forgotten something I've got to do. Sorry, old man, but I can't play."

"All right. It's too bad, but it's only for fun anyhow. I'll get a substitute. Come out to-morrow."

"I will," promised Billy, and, as he mingled with the throng of spectators, Frank saw the man with the black beard edge up so as to get close to the student.

Suddenly Billy turned and looked the man full in the face. The latter seemed taken by surprise, and shifted quickly to one side. A moment later he turned away, and as he walked off Frank saw that he was lame, walking with a slight limp.

"Humph!" exclaimed the Racer boy. "That's strange. He's as mysterious as Billy himself. I wonder what all this means?"

---

A STRANGE ATTACK

Puzzled as to what the strange action of his team-mate might portend, Frank Racer looked over the other lads to select one to fill Billy's place.

"Here, Jim," he called, "play ball here; will you?"

"Sure," replied the invited one, "glad to. What's the matter with Chase; cold feet?"

"Something like that, I guess. Go on, play ball. Line out a pretty one!"

"Say, you can't do that," objected Andy, as he saw his brother making a change in his batting order.

"Can't do what?"

"Make a shift like that at this time."

"Sure I can," insisted Frank. "We're not playing league rules, or even interscholastic ones. Don't make such a fuss. This is only for fun. Go on, Jim, swat it!"

There was a dispute, but it ended in favor of Frank, the majority deciding that, under the circumstances, it was permissible. As the game went on Frank looked across the campus. He saw the mysterious man strolling along, without any special object as far as he could see, while Billy Chase hurried in the direction of the dormitory.

"He's hustling just as if somebody was after him," mused Frank. "What could he have forgotten that wouldn't keep until after the game? I guess that was only an excuse. I'm going to keep on the lookout. That fellow with the limp will be easy to remember. I wonder if his beard is false? But no, it looked too real for that. Well, maybe, after all, it isn't any of my affair, but I'm going to get at the bottom of it if I can."

Whack! That was the bat of Jim finding the ball, and a moment later Frank, in watching the flight of the horsehide, forgot all about the mystery that seemed to enshroud Billy Chase.

"That's the stuff!"

"Go it, old man!"

"A three-bagger!"

"Make it a home run!"

"Come on! Come on, old man!" This last was yelled by Frank, who was hopping up and down at home plate, thus trying to encourage Jim Bland to greater speed as he rounded the bases following his fine hit. The other cries of delight and encouragement came from the members of Frank's nine.

Jim reached third just as the center fielder, who had to run back some distance to get the ball, threw it in.

"Come on home! Come on home!" cried John North, who was playing coach at third.

"No, hold it!" ordered Frank, and it was well that Jim did, for the ball was accurately thrown and he would have been caught at home, if not nipped on the last bag, had he tried to leave it.

But it was a good hit, and served to encourage Frank's team. To such advantage did they play that they won the game and the elder Racer lad had the satisfaction of crowing over his brother.

"Well, you wouldn't have won if you hadn't slipped in a cracker-jack batter on me," complained Andy.

"Get out! I would so. Why, Jim isn't any better than Billy Chase."

"That shows how much you know about it. Jim is one of the best in the school, and it's a pity he wasn't on the main team last year. He will be this season. Billy is a good player, but he can't bat. What made him chase off that way?"

"I don't know," answered Frank. "And did you see that lame man, with the black beard?"

"I sure did. He looked like the villain in some Western drama. Did he speak to Billy?"

"No, but Billy seemed to move off as soon as he laid eyes on the fellow."

The two brothers conversed as they walked off the diamond, speculating as to what the mystery might be concerning the Freshman. Following the game the players went to the gymnasium for a shower bath. Neither Billy Chase nor the lame man were in sight when Frank and Andy came out.

The Racer boys gave an impromptu spread in their room that night, and there was a gathering of happy lads who talked baseball from all standpoints. It was agreed that the chances for Riverview Hall to win the pennant that season were very good.

"But we've got to have lots of practice," insisted Andy. "We ought to have the regular team about picked by this time."

"There's a meeting next week," said Jack Sanderson. "I guess things will hum from then on."

"Good!" exclaimed Andy. "I say, let's do something. It's early yet. Let's go out and haze a couple of Freshmen."

"Oh, cut that out!" advised Frank. "Haven't we hazed about all of 'em?"

"There are some new fellows that came in the other day," went on the younger Racer lad. "They haven't had their share of the medicine yet."

"I'm with you," agreed Jack, who was always ready for mischief.

"I'll take a chance," said John North. "It'll be fun."

"Better not," advised Frank. "You may get caught."

"Oh, come on, you old croaker," exclaimed his brother, but Frank could not be persuaded, and remained behind. Some of the others, following the lead of the impetuous Andy, went looking for luckless Freshmen on whom to play their tricks.

They found some, and for a time the excitement waxed high, but, as it happened, one of the professors, returning from a lecture in town, caught the group of students. He realized what was going on, and ordered the crowd back to their rooms, with instructions to report to the proctor in the morning. To insure compliance with this he took the names of all the lads.

"Well, what did I tell you?" asked Frank, when his brother came in a little later, looking quite woebegone.

"Oh, dry up!" commanded Andy, in no gentle voice. "Don't be an 'I told you so!'"

"Well, you would go out," retorted Frank.

"Yes, and we had a good time, even if we did get caught," said Andy. "Anyhow, it's too early in the term for the proc. to lay it on very heavy. Besides, we had to haze those Freshmen, and we did it good and proper."

Andy was right in guessing that the proctor would not make the punishment heavy. A light sentence was passed on all the culprits save the first-year students, and, by virtue of their having been taken from their quarters against their wills, they were let off with a warning to be more watchful in the future.

Thus the first weeks of the new term passed. Hazing became a thing of the past, and the cap-rush, which was won by the Freshmen, entitling them to wear the insignia of the school on their head-gear, ended hostilities between the class bodies for the time being.

Frank's endeavor to fathom what seemed to be a mystery concerning Billy Chase and the bearded lame man amounted to nothing. The man seemed to have disappeared, and as Billy did not speak of him, Frank forbore to ask any questions.

Billy became quite friendly with the Racer boys and their chums. He was a fine chap, fond of all sports, and modest in his accomplishments. He had the broad, free spirit of the boundless West, and easily made friends.

"But he doesn't get over that peculiarity I noticed first," remarked Jack Sanderson. "He always seems to fear he is going to be attacked from behind."

"Maybe it's nervousness," suggested Andy.

"Nonsense! He hasn't an excess nerve in his make-up. It's something else, I tell you," insisted Jack. "Why, only to-day he——"

But Jack was interrupted by a knock on the door of Frank and Andy's room, and the opening of the portal disclosed "Old" Wallace, the coach, who came in to talk baseball. He had been away for some time, and had recently returned. Then, for a time, Billy Chase and his affairs were forgotten.

The regular baseball nine was being whipped into shape, and the time for the first match game of the season was approaching. The weather had come off warm quite suddenly, and the diamond was in fine shape. Practice was going well, and the Racer boys and their chums felt that they had a winning team.

It was one or two nights before the game with Waterside Hall, the ancient enemy of Riverview, that Frank and Andy obtained permission to go into town. Frank wanted to get a new glove, and Andy had some shopping to do concerning baseball matters.

"Well, let's take in a 'shiftin' picture show,' as the Scotchman called the movies," suggested Andy, when their errands were done.

"Will we have time?" asked Frank, always more or less cautious.

"Of course we will."

So they went to the moving picture entertainment. As they entered several persons were coming out, having seen the first "round" of films, and, at the sight of one of the audience, Frank started.

"What's the matter?" asked Andy, who was walking next to him. "See a ghost?"

"No, but I saw that lame man, who was hanging around the ball field the other day—the fellow Billy Chase seemed so afraid of."

"Well, what of it? He isn't looking for us, and I guess he won't find Billy. I saw him boning away for further orders as we came out. Here are a couple of good seats. They're going to have illustrated songs, too. There's that pretty girl who was in here the other night."

"Oh, you and your girls!" exclaimed Frank.

"She isn't mine—wish she was," rejoined Andy. "She and the fellow who bangs the piano are chummy. No chance for me. Oh, for cats' sake! We've struck one of those western Indian dramas, acted over in Hoboken."

But if the first picture was not to the liking of the Racer boys, the other films were, and they remained for the whole show. On their way toward school from the trolley they took a short cut through a rather dark lane, for, though they did not much mind getting in after the hour prescribed by the proctor, still they did not want to take too many chances.

As Frank and Andy passed under one of the few lights that helped dispel the gloom of the seldom-used thoroughfare, they saw someone approaching. It was someone in a hurry, too, judging by the footsteps.

A moment later a man fairly rushed by the boys, and, at the sight of him as he disappeared in the darkness behind them, Frank uttered a cry.

"That fellow!" he exclaimed. "He's the lame man with the black beard—the one we saw in the show earlier to-night, and the one who was at the ball practice."

"Well, what of it?" asked Andy. "You're getting him on the brain, I guess."

"Hark!" exclaimed the younger lad.

They came to a halt. Then, above the rustle of the wind through the tree branches, both heard a faint moaning sound.

"Someone's hurt!" exclaimed Frank.

"Over here!" cried Andy. "I can see something! Over here, Frank!"

Andy sprang to the left, and struck a match. The glow disclosed a huddled-up body lying in the ditch of the lane. Andy bent over it.

"It's a young fellow," he reported to Frank. "And he's been hit on the head. He's bleeding."

"By Jove!" cried Frank, as he ran up. "It's Billy Chase!"

---

BILLY TELLS SOMETHING

Frank and Andy bent over the prostrate form of their fellow student, hardly knowing what to do. Then Andy uttered an exclamation, and the scene was in sudden darkness.

"What's the matter?" asked Frank.

"The match burned my fingers. I forgot I was holding it."

"Oh, forget it," advised his brother. "We've got other work cut out for us. I wonder if he's badly hurt?"

"I saw a cut on his head," said Andy. "It's so dark——"

"Light another match," advised Frank. "I can't find my box."

In the darkness Billy moaned faintly, and stirred as he lay on the damp ground.

"Lift him up," advised Andy, as he once more struck a match. "We've got to carry him to some place. A thief must have held him up, and, when he resisted, struck him. Say, this is fierce!"

"What makes you think it was a thief?" asked Frank.

"Because, who else would do it?"

"I was thinking of the man we passed a minute ago. He——"

"That's so!" exclaimed the impetuous Andy. "I believe it was that fellow! Say, that's a bad cut all right."

Frank had raised Billy's head from the ground, and, as he did so, while Andy stood by, with a ready supply of matches, the injured lad opened his eyes, and tried to struggle to his feet.

"Where is it?" he cried. "Did he get it? He attacked me, and then—I wonder if I have it safe? If it is gone my uncle will have to—Oh, if he has taken it——"

He ceased talking and began feebly to search in an inner pocket, meanwhile struggling to get out of Frank's arms.

"Let me go! Let me go!" he cried fiercely, but he was so weak, or dazed from the blow, that Frank easily held him, though Billy was no weakling in muscle.

"Steady now, old man," said Frank, in a soothing voice. "It's all right. We're friends of yours. We'll take care of you. Don't you know me?" and he bent closer over the lad, looking into his face by the light of the match.

"You must not take it—I won't let you have it! Oh—it's you—Frank—the Racer boys!" suddenly exclaimed Billy, and then the brothers knew that his mind had been wandering, but that now he was himself again.

"Are you much hurt, old man?" asked Frank. "How did it happen? Who struck you? Have you been robbed?"

Billy did not answer at once. His hand, that had been fumbling with the buttons of his vest, now opened that garment, and sought an inner pocket. His face, that had shown terror and despair, now reflected hope. A breath of relief came from his lips.

"I—I'm all right," he faltered. "I guess I can stand up." He proved it by doing so, though Frank stood near to catch him in case he fell. Then the moon, which had been hidden behind clouds, came out, making it light enough to see, so that Andy had no further need of striking matches.

"How did it happen?" asked Frank. "Who attacked you?"

"I—I don't know," said Billy, in stronger tones. "I had been in town to mail an important letter, and I was hurrying back, for, though I had permission to be out, I didn't want to be too late in getting back. I took this short cut, and just as I got here someone jumped on me from behind, and tried to get——"

"He was after your watch and money, I guess," interrupted Andy, for he had seen the valuable gold timepiece Billy carried, and it was well known that the western lad was wealthy, and usually had a fairly large sum with him.

"No, it wasn't that," came the answer. "My watch and money are safe."

"Then what did the rascal want?" asked Frank, as he thought of the man who had passed him and his brother a short time before they discovered Billy. "If it wasn't your valuables, what did the footpad want, Billy?"

"He wasn't a footpad, and he—he——"

Billy's voice trailed off weakly. The lad swayed on his feet, put his hands to his head, and with a moan sank back. He would have fallen to the ground, only that Frank, who had been expecting something like this, caught him just in time.

"He's worse hurt than he thought," exclaimed Andy.

"Guess you're right," admitted Frank. "We'll have to have help. If there was only some water near here——"

"There is. I know where there's a spring," interrupted his brother. "I'll bring some."

He dashed off, to return presently with his cap full. Some of the fluid was sprinkled on the pale face of the unconscious lad, on whose forehead there was a deep gash. Then Frank managed to get a few drops from his cupped hand between Billy's lips.

"I—I guess I'll be all right now," murmured the injured one. "Did I—did I faint?"

"That's what," answered Frank, as Billy struggled to a sitting position. "Now take it easy. We can get a carriage and take you to a doctor."

"I don't need one. I feel much better now. That water did the business. So I fainted? That's queer. I never did such a girl's trick before. Guess he must have given me a harder whack than I thought at first." He put his hand to his head, bringing the palm away covered with blood.

"It's only a cut, I guess," volunteered Frank. "We'll wash it for you, and then——"

"If you give me a good drink of water I can walk back to the school," said Billy. "I'm all right now."

He was much stronger, as was proved by his voice, and the manner in which he stepped about. Andy got more water, and the cut was bathed. Then, after a copious drink, Billy announced that he was almost himself again.

"All but for a bad headache," he added. "But I don't mind that, as long as the fellow didn't get anything."

"And are you sure he wasn't a highwayman?" asked Frank.

"Yes, I am, though I didn't see him, as he came up back of me. He must have been following. I've been expecting this, but not so soon. If he had gotten it, he wouldn't have been much better off, for I've got to get the other signatures. I guess I'll——"

Billy did not finish. He seemed to be talking to himself, and, as he did not offer to take the Racer boys into his confidence, they did not feel like asking questions. But Frank could not help mentioning one thing.

As Billy stood there, his hand in the inner pocket of his vest, as if to make sure that something of value was not missing, the elder Racer lad said:

"I believe we passed the man who attacked you."

"You did?" cried Billy. "Who was he?"

"The lame man with the black beard!"

"I thought so! He hasn't given up yet! I must wire my uncle at once. Come on back to town with me."

Billy turned, and would have started toward Riverview, but Frank caught his arm.

"Look here!" exclaimed the elder Racer lad, "you're in no condition to go back to town. You'll faint on the way, or something. You need to see a doctor. We'll help you back to school."

"But this is important!" insisted the Western youth. "I must warn my uncle that this plot against him is deeper than he thinks. I've got to telegraph to him."

"Then do it from Riverview Hall," suggested Andy. "You can telephone the telegram in from there."

"That's right," added Frank.

"Then that's what I'll do," decided Billy, after a moment's thought. "Glad you mentioned it, for I must send a warning."

"Hadn't we better chase after that man we passed?" asked Andy eagerly. "The scoundrel ought to be arrested. Come on! I believe we can catch him. He's lame, and can't go very fast," and he wheeled about as though to take up the pursuit.

"No, don't!" cried Billy. "He's a dangerous man. Don't go near him if you can help it. He would as soon strike you down as look at you. Let him go. I can get on his trail later."

"Yes, don't go," put in Frank. "You could never find him in the darkness, and, besides, it might not be safe. And we've got to help Billy back."

"Oh, I might manage to go the distance," said the Western lad, with a wan smile; "but I'd rather have you with me. I can find that man later, if I want to. But I hope he leaves this neighborhood. I'm not safe while he's around."

"Then why don't you complain to the police and have him locked up?" asked Frank.

"It would do no good. That wouldn't stop their work. You don't understand, and I can't explain much, but I'll say this," and Billy, leaning heavily on Frank's arm, continued:

"My uncle is a wealthy ranch owner out West, and he has many business ventures. Now one of them is likely to fall through because of the activities of certain men, of whom the fellow who attacked me to-night is one. But he failed. You see, I'm helping my uncle—negotiating the Eastern end of a big deal for him, while I'm here at school. That's one of the reasons why I came East. This is all I can tell you now.

"I can't thank you enough for helping me, and, later, I may be able to tell you more details. It's a queer story, and there is quite a mystery to it. Some of it I don't even know myself. But it sure is lucky that you found me."

"We're glad we did," put in Andy. "Now let's get on to school, or we'll be locked out."

As they started off, one of the Racer boys on either side of Billy, Frank suddenly exclaimed:

"Hark! I think someone is following us!"

---

NEWS FROM THE WEST

The boys stiffened into attention, listening intently for the faintest sound. At first they could hear nothing more than the whisper of the wind in the trees, and then, so faintly as to be almost inaudible, they did catch a rustling in the grass, that told of the approach of someone.

"That man—he's coming back!" said Frank softly.

"Let me attend to him!" exclaimed Andy, and, before his brother could stop him, the younger lad had run back over the course they had come.

"Stop!" called Frank aloud.

A moment later there was the sound of someone running away, and it was not the footsteps of Andy that made the noise.

"I see him! I see him!" cried the younger Racer lad. "It's the man with the limp!"

"You come back here!" ordered Frank, and his voice was such that Andy did not think it wise to disobey. He came back panting from his run.

"I could have caught him if you'd let me alone," he said, protestingly.

"You never mind that," went on Frank. "There's been enough trouble to-night. Now come on, and don't delay. That fellow won't follow us again."

"I guess not," declared Andy. "He was running hard when I saw him. I guess he thought he could sneak up and finish the mean work he began, but he didn't count on our being here."

"That's right," agreed Billy. "When he attacked me we struggled and I rolled to one side of the lane. Then he must have hit me with a black-jack or a sand-bag, and made me unconscious."

"It must have been some sharp instrument, to cut your head," declared Frank. "He probably heard us coming, and ran away. Then, thinking perhaps we hadn't seen you, he decided to come back for a second try."

"Well, I guess he's gone for good—to-night, at least," remarked Andy; and a little later the boys reached Riverview Hall. The proctor was waiting for them, with anger in his eyes for their being out so late, but he calmed down when told of the cause.

"Attacked, eh?" he exclaimed. "That is bad business, boys. Are you much hurt, Chase?"

"No, not much."

"Highwaymen, I expect. I did not dream they would be so bold. Footpads so near the school! The police must be notified at once," and the proctor proceeded to call up the authorities on the telephone. Billy, with a wink at his two chums not to say anything of that which he had told them, allowed the school official to think that an ordinary criminal had made the attack.

After the alarm had been given, bringing an answer to the effect that policemen and detectives would be on the lookout for any desperate characters, Billy sent in his telegram.

If Frank or Andy had hoped to gather, from overhearing the wording of the message, any intimation as to what it was the lame man had tried to get from the Western lad, they were disappointed, for the telegram was in code words, meaningless to all but to those holding the key. And, to do them credit, Andy and his brother were curious only from a desire to help Billy, whom they had grown to like very much.

"My uncle and I always use a code, or cipher, in sending messages," explained Billy, when he had finished telephoning. "It saves many a big cattle deal from falling through sometimes, for my uncle has many competitors who would do anything to learn his plans."

"You had better let the doctor attend to that cut on your head," suggested the proctor, and presently the school physician was called in to dress the wound.

"A nasty cut, but that's all," was his opinion. "No bones broken. You'll probably have a worse headache in the morning than you have now."

He proved a true prophet, and for three days Billy was laid up in bed, being delirious part of the time. Andy and Frank went in to see him, and during a lucid moment he begged them not to say anything about the lame man.

"Let everybody think it was just an ordinary thief who attacked me," said Billy. "I can best serve my uncle that way, and I have the papers he tried to get safely put away now. So don't say anything."

They promised, though wondering much, and so the attack on the Freshman passed as a bold, though ordinary, case of a criminal trying to rob a lone traveler after dark. The police could get no trace of him, which did not greatly surprise the Racer boys and their new chum.

Meanwhile the first ball game of the season was played and—lost by Riverview. The score was five to two.

"It was because Billy Chase wasn't in center field," declared Frank after the game, for Billy had been unable to play on account of the injury to his head. "If he'd been there the flies that Reynolds muffed would have been caught, and we could have stopped their winning streak."

"Well, we didn't play very hard ourselves, when it came to making runs," declared Jack Sanderson.

"No, we've got to do better," added Ward Platt, and the next practice was sharp, and full of vim, under the watchful eyes of the coach and captain.

It was about two days after Billy had gotten out of bed, following the attack on him, that he sought out Frank and Andy in their room.

"I've got a message from my uncle," said the Western lad, as he held out a telegram. "It's in the code, and I've just translated it. By the way, I believe I forgot to mention that my uncle's name is Richfield Thornton, and that his place is near Sageville, Kansas."

"We've never been very far West," volunteered Andy, "so we never heard of that place."

"What does your uncle say?" asked Frank, for it was evident that Billy had come to tell some news.

"Oh, he says he's sorry I was hurt, but he's glad that that man didn't get hold of the papers that I carried. He says he is having his own troubles out there, for the men opposed to him are making it hard to do business. It seems they have divided up their forces and attack. Some of them are in the East here, trying to get the best of me, and others are working the game from the Western end. I don't know what to do. The deal is far from being completed, and anything may happen at any time to spoil it. I wish my uncle would come on and tell me what to do."

"Maybe we can help you," suggested Frank. "Our father is in business in New York, and I know he has had lots of law-suits about different matters. Maybe he could advise you——"

"No, thank you," said Billy, with a shake of his head. "The trouble is, I can't give you the details of my uncle's business for two reasons. One is that I don't know all the ins and outs of it myself, and the other is that it has to be kept secret for a certain length of time. And to get intelligent advice I'd have to give all the details."

"That's so," agreed Frank.

"But I tell you what we can do," exclaimed Andy. "We can stick close to you, Billy, and if there are any more attacks there'll be three of us to dispose of instead of one."

"That's right!" cried Frank. "Billy, we're with you from this on!" And he held out his hand, which the Western lad took in a hearty clasp. "You hang out with us, Billy," went on the elder Racer lad, "and we'll see what happens."

"Fine!" cried Andy, who loved excitement. "Maybe they'll attack you again."

"I hope not," murmured Billy, as he felt of the lump that was still on his head. "My uncle wants me to come back out West," he added; "but I don't want to unless I have to. I like it here. It's a great school."

"You ought to have seen it when the Racer boys first came," spoke Jack Sanderson, entering in time to hear Billy's last remark. "It sure was fierce!"

"That's right," agreed Frank.

"And they did everything to get it in shape," went on Jack.

"Oh, get out! Everyone helped!" declared Andy, who, like his brother, was modest under praise. Nothing more was said for the present about the news from the West, but later that day Billy remarked:

"If I do have to go back to the ranch, I hope you fellows will come and visit me during vacation."

"We'll be glad to!" exclaimed Frank, his eyes sparkling in anticipation of the delights of the prairies.

---

A THRILLING RESCUE

"Where are you going, Frank?"

"Oh, out for a walk. Want to come along, Andy?"

"Sure; there's no fun sitting here, and it's too hot to study. What do you say to a row on the river?"

"I'm with you. Let's get some of the other fellows."

"Most of our crowd have gone over to the golf game at Fuller Academy," said Andy, for that amusement had suddenly come into vogue at one of the institutions of learning near Riverview, though the lads at the latter place had not taken it up.

Still, many of them liked to see golf played, and as there was a match on at Fuller, a number of the closer chums of our heroes had gone to it. Frank and Andy had a late lecture which they could not "cut," and so could not attend. Now, however, their study period had arrived, and they were free to do as they liked.

"Let's see if Billy Chase is in his room," suggested Andy, as they passed the dormitory where the Freshmen roomed. But Billy was out, as his fellow-lodger informed the callers.

"Then we'll have to go rowing by ourselves," said Frank.

"I wonder what we'll do this summer?" ventured Andy, when they had pulled some distance up stream. They generally did this, so they could come back with the current, which was strong in the Spring of the year.

"Oh, I guess we'll have to wait and see what dad and mother plan," came from Frank. "They'll likely go to Harbor View again."

"I'm a bit tired of the shore," remarked Andy. "I like clams and lobsters as well as anyone, but I'd prefer a change this summer. That time we spent in the Maine woods just suited me."

"The same here, only we don't want to go to a lumber camp in the summer—in fact, I guess there isn't much doing there at that time of year."

"No, I expect not; but still I vote we don't go to the shore."

"We won't if we can help it. But at the same time we had good fun at Harbor View."

"We sure did," chimed in Andy. "Do you remember when the whale rushed at us?"

"Yes, and what a job we had, with Bob Trent, in getting it ashore."

"And how those fishermen tried to claim it?"

"Yes, and then the time we had finding out who Paul Gale was."

"That was great," agreed the younger lad. "I was hoping we'd have some excitement here, after that mysterious man attacked Billy, but it seems to have died out."

"Yes," agreed Frank. "I haven't seen anything more of him. Guess he's vamoosed."

"Has Billy said anything more to you about his uncle's business?"

"No. I reckon he told us all he could. He sure is a nice fellow—Billy, I mean. I like him better every day."

"So do I," added the other brother, and for some time they rowed on, talking of their chums, and the various happenings at school and elsewhere.

As they rounded a bend in the stream, Andy, casting a look over his shoulder to get the proper course, uttered an exclamation.

"What's the matter?" asked Frank. "Is the current too much for you? It is stronger than I've known it in some time."

"No, it wasn't that, but there's a fellow sitting out on the dead limb of that old, rotten sycamore tree, fishing right over that swift eddy."

"So he is," agreed Frank, looking toward the place where the school lads often went to catch fine fish.

The fishing hole was generally a good spot to pull out the finny prizes, but now the river was swollen with the Spring rains and the water was deep, swirling about in a dangerous pool where the stream backed up around a cut in the bank to make an eddy.

"That fellow'd better look out," went on Andy. "That limb is half cracked through. I know, for I went out on it for a dive last year, and it almost gave way with me. I told the fellows about it, and they've since kept off. He'd better look out."

"Call to him, and warn him," suggested Frank.

"I will," said his brother, and he was just about to raise his voice in a shout when he cried:

"Why, it's Billy Chase!"

"So it is," came from Frank. "He's got an old suit on, and I didn't recognize him. Hi, Billy!" he yelled. "You'd better get off that——"

But that was as far as Frank got. For Billy, looking up, had recognized his friends in the boat. He waved a welcome to them, and the next instant the rotten limb, astride of which he sat over the deep eddy, gave way with a crack, letting him fall into the river with a mighty splash.

"There he goes!" cried Frank.

"Pull! Pull!" yelled Andy. "Maybe he can't swim, and if he gets tangled in the branches he'll drown!"

"Oh, sure he can swim," declared Frank; "but we'll pull up to him, just the same."

"We're coming!" shouted Andy, and he looked over his shoulder, but he could not see his friend. "He's gone under!" yelled the younger Racer lad.

"By Jove! So he has!" gasped Frank. "But he'll come up again! Pull for all you're worth, Andy!"

The brothers bent to the oars and soon they had swept from the current of the river into the quieter waters of the eddy. But even there, because of the swollen stream, it was no easy pulling.

"There's the broken limb!" cried Andy, as it swirled up into view, having been sucked down under the surface.

"And there are Billy's legs!" added Frank. "Look! his trousers are caught on a sharp, broken limb, and he's being held head down!"

"Sure enough!" cried Andy.

"Lively!" yelled his brother. "We've got to get him up quick, or he'll be drowned! You manage the boat, Andy, and I'll see what I can do."

Frank unshipped his oars, and Andy bent his strength against that of the current, to hold the boat near the drifting branch, around which the luckless lad's legs were tangled.

"Cut him loose! Cut him loose! Use your knife!" cried Andy, as he saw his brother vainly endeavoring to disentangle the hem of the trousers from the sharp projection.

"Right, oh!" cried Frank, as he whipped out his keen-bladed knife. In another instant he had cut the cloth. Instantly Billy's feet and legs disappeared beneath the surface of the eddy.

"He—he's gone!" faltered Andy.

"He had to put his legs down to get his head up," said Frank. "Look out for him when——"

He did not have time to say more, for, at that instant, the body of Billy shot up head foremost, floating clear of the entangling branch.

"Grab him!" yelled Andy, but his brother did not need the advice. Leaning over, he caught the half-conscious form of the Western lad, just as Billy was sinking again.

"Can you pull him in alone?" cried Andy, who was still laboring at the oars.

"Yes, you keep the boat steady. I don't want an upset," responded his brother, and he got a firmer grip on his chum's wet clothing. Then with a mighty heave, pulling him over the bow of the craft, Frank got the half-drowned lad out of the water.

---

THE INVITATION

"Is he dead, Frank? Is he breathing? Did we get him out in time?" cried Andy, highly excited, as he dropped the oars and began to make his way forward to where his brother was holding Billy. "Do you think we can bring him around?"

"Say, don't ask so many questions," snapped Frank, not because he was cross, but because he realized that seconds counted and he wanted to do all he could for the half-drowned lad. "Get back to your oars," he added. "First thing you know we'll be stuck in the mud bank, or upset in the current. Hold the boat steady, and get over there where it's quieter. Then we'll see what we can do."

Andy obeyed, and while Frank made the now unconscious lad more comfortable, the young Racer boy pulled with all his strength toward a quieter place in the eddy. Soon the boat was floating easily.

"Lively now!" commanded Frank. "Help me turn him over to drain some of the water out of his lungs. Then we'll make a sort of pillow of our coats and rest him, face down, on that."

Frank talked while he worked, and soon Billy's lungs were drained of the water that kept the air from entering them. Next he was placed with his stomach on an upraised roll of coats, across one of the seats, and a little later Frank began using artificial respiration, by working Billy's arms up and down over his head, while Andy pressed on the lower portion of his chest to compress it. The boys had studied first-aid work, and knew the method to be used in restoring half-drowned persons.

Their success was soon apparent, for, after a few seconds, Billy opened his eyes, and looked up at his rescuers.

"Wha—what happened?" he asked feebly.

"You fell in," replied Frank. "But don't talk now. You must be too weak."

"Oh, I'm all right," said Billy, in a stronger voice. "I remember it all now. The limb broke with me, just as I was waving to you fellows. I held my breath, as soon as I struck the water, but I couldn't seem to get to the top."

"No wonder," put in Andy. "Your trousers were caught on a tree branch."

"Oh, that's what it was," went on Billy. "Well, when I couldn't hold my breath any longer, and found that I couldn't get right side up, I thought I was a goner. How did you manage to get me loose?"

Frank told how he had cut the trousers from the entangling limb, and how he had dragged Billy into the boat just in time. The Western boy was gaining strength every moment, and in a short while he had fully recovered from his impromptu bath, save that he was still wet.

"Let's row ashore," proposed Andy, "and get some of the water out of your clothes. Then you won't be so likely to catch cold. What possessed you to go out on that limb?"

"I thought it was a good place to fish," replied Billy. "I could easily throw my line in from the limb, and I never noticed that it was cracked half way through."

"And it was rotten in the bargain," added Frank. "It ought to have been chopped off long ago, or a warning sign put up. Most of our fellows knew about it, though."

"I wish I had," said Billy ruefully. "But I do now. I'm glad I had on an old suit."

By this time Andy had the boat near shore, and a little later the two brothers were helping Billy wring the water from his heaviest garments. It was no easy task to get them on again, and Frank insisted that his own coat be used in place of the wet one of his chum.

"You'll need it yourself," insisted Billy. "It's quite cool to-day."

"No, I can keep warm rowing," declared Frank, passing over his garment.

"Then if that's warming work, me for an oar!" exclaimed Billy, who was shivering in spite of the fact that it was late Spring.

With Billy and Frank pulling at the oars, the craft shot down the river toward the boarding school, aided by the swift current. In a short time Riverview Hall loomed in sight and a crowd of students could be seen gathered on the dock near the boathouse.

"Huh! Great rowers you fellows are!" cried Jack Sanderson, when he saw the water in the bottom of the craft, where it had dripped from Billy, and noticed the damp figure of the Freshman.

"What did you do—upset?" asked Ward Platt.

"No, they've been inventing a new kind of submarine," chimed in John North.

But when the students learned what had happened they offered their congratulations to the rescued lad, and to the Racer boys who had so pluckily pulled him out in the nick of time.

"Run up and get some dry duds on," suggested Frank. "Are you sure you're all right, and don't need a doctor to look you over?"

"Oh, sure I'm all right," insisted Billy. "What do you think I am—a chronic doctor's patient? First I get a whack over the head that lays me out, and then I'm nearly drowned. I wonder when this 'hoodoo' is going to let up?"

"That's right, you have had more than your share," admitted Andy, with a grin.

Billy ran on toward his dormitory, while Andy and Frank remained behind to tell further details of the rescue. Later they joined their new chum in his room, where they found him drinking hot lemonade which the motherly matron, Mrs. Stone, had sent up to him when she heard about the accident.

"Oh, say, that smells good!" exclaimed Frank, sniffing the air.

"Have some," invited Billy, but when Andy tasted it he made a wry face, for the matron had not made it any too sweet, and she had put some ginger in it to further aid in warding off a possible cold.

"Talk about your ice cream sodas!" exclaimed Andy. "Got anything to take the taste of that out of my mouth, Billy?"

"There's a box of crackers on that shelf," replied the host. "They belong to Ray Bentley, my roommate, but go ahead and help yourself. He won't mind. We use each other's things anyhow. I've got some of his clothes on now. He took my best suit—gone to see some girl, I guess."

"Very likely—at the golf match," remarked Frank, while Andy helped himself to the crackers. "But most of the fellows are back from there."

"Oh, Ray'll stay until the last cow comes home when there's a girl in the offing," said Billy, as he took another glass of the hot lemonade. "There, I feel better," he said. "I'm warmed through. Say, I can't thank you fellows enough for pulling me out of the wetness, but——"

"Oh, forget it!" exclaimed Frank. "It was just by luck that we happened to be there."

"By the way, did you get any fish?" asked Andy.

"Not a one," replied Billy. "I had had a few nibbles when you came along, and I was just thinking I was going to have great luck, when——"

"When you had some bad luck," interrupted Frank. "Well, never mind. We'll all go fishing some day, and——"

There came a knock on the door, and the two visitors looked questioningly at Billy.

"I guess it's all right," he said, in a whisper. "It isn't past visiting time, and we haven't broken any rules. Come in!" he called.

The portal opened, disclosing one of the school messengers with a letter in his hand.

"Special delivery for you," he announced to Billy, and the host, with a murmured apology for reading the missive, tore open the envelope. Rapidly he scanned the few lines. Then he uttered an exclamation of surprise and delight.

"Say, fellows" he cried. "This is great! Listen to it. My uncle says his affairs are getting all tangled up, and he wants me to come back West at once and help him. He says to let things here slide for the present, and hustle right out to the ranch. It seems that his rivals are making all sorts of trouble for him."

"And can you help him?" asked Frank.

"Well, I'm going to try. You see I've done quite a lot of business for him, and I know something of the ins and outs of his affairs. I guess I'll have to go."

"And leave school?" asked Andy, dubiously.

"With the term only half over," added Frank, "and the best of the baseball games to come. Oh, that's too bad!"

"Can't help it," replied Billy, still looking over the letter. "I won't have to go for a few weeks, though, as I'll have to close matters up here as best I can. But I've got to go, and—Oh say! here's something else. I didn't read down that far before. Say, this is the best ever!"

"What?" asked Frank and Andy in a chorus.

"My uncle says he wants you two fellows to come out West with me. Out on the ranch."

"Wants us?" came in another chorus.

"Yes, I wrote and told him how you helped me, and how you've been a sort of bodyguard since that attack, and he thinks that's great. You've got to come; will you? Come out on the prairies and I'll show you a life worth living. Can't you come?"

He looked appealingly at Andy and Frank. They said nothing for a few seconds. Then Billy added:

"You can help me, fellows. I'd rather have you with me than anyone I know of. Besides, maybe we three can find the treasure of Golden Peak!"

---

OFF FOR THE WEST

Frank looked quickly at his brother, and Andy, in turn, turned a rather startled gaze on Frank.

"What's that you said?" asked the younger Racer lad.

"The treasure of Golden Peak," murmured Frank. "Is that a joke, or just a pleasant little way you Westerners have of making conversation?"

Billy laughed and said:

"Well, boys, I'm afraid, after all, that it may be only a joke. But for all that there is a place out near my uncle's ranch on the Kansas prairies that is known as 'Golden Peak.' It's a sort of big hill."

"And is there treasure in it?" asked Andy, eagerly. Frank, too, in spite of the fact that he was slower to enthuse than was his brother, looked much interested. "Is there gold out there, Billy?"

"I don't know," was the frank answer. "I'll tell you all I can about it, and you can judge for yourselves. But first let me say that, treasure or no treasure, I hope both of you can come West with me, and help me and my uncle get ahead of the men who are trying to spoil his business. He says he thinks, from what I have told him about you, that you'd be just the kind of fellows to do it."

"Many thanks!" exclaimed Frank, making an exaggerated bow.

"Oh, but I mean it!" insisted Billy, quickly; "and I know my uncle does, too. As I told you before, his name is Richfield Thornton, and his place—which is a big one—is near Sageville, in Kansas. I have lived with my uncle nearly all my life—ever since my father and mother died when I was a small chap. I never had any brothers or sisters, and my uncle took care of me—he and his wife.

"When I grew old enough I used to help him with his business, after he found out that he couldn't trust several men whom he had made his confidential secretaries. That's why he gave me this work to do for him in the East. I came on to school, but I'm afraid I'm more interested in my uncle's affairs than in lessons. Though after I clear this mystery up I'm going to buckle down to study."

"But what is the mystery?" asked Frank.

"It has to do with a big irrigation scheme my uncle wants to carry out," replied the Western lad. "You see, in addition to raising cattle my uncle has a big tract of grain and other crops, and he's in a region where it doesn't often rain. Not far from his place is a small stream, and a lake, and he figured that by building a dam across a valley he could make a larger lake, and have water stored for irrigation purposes whenever he wanted it. He would also have water to sell to other ranch owners.

"He started to get possession of the necessary land, and I helped him. We found that a certain parcel, that was much needed, was owned by a small corporation out East, and I came to get their signatures to the papers, allowing us to buy and flood their property. I did get their consent, and then the trouble about Golden Peak cropped out. That's what we're up against now, and it looks as if we were going to have a hard time."

"But what is Golden Peak?" asked Andy.

"As I said, it's a big hill that would come about in the middle of the lake my uncle intends creating by the building of a dam. This hill is covered with a lot of yellowish rocks, and I think that's how it got its name. But there are certain men, or rather one man in particular, who seems to think that there is a real treasure of gold in the peak, and he's doing his best to prevent us from surrounding it with water."

"Who is this man?" asked Frank.

"His name is Sam Shackmiller, and he's the lame man who I believe attacked me," answered Billy, quietly.

"What! the black-bearded man who was hanging around here a while ago?" cried Andy.

"That's the one," admitted Billy. "I had been warned to be on the lookout for him, and it was well that I was. He is a dangerous man."

"Was that why you acted so strangely?" inquired Frank.

"Yes. I couldn't tell when he might sneak up on me."

"What did he want?" came from Andy.

"Certain valuable papers which I had secured from the corporation, giving us the right to flood their land. Among them was the final document we needed to allow us to go ahead with our work, and it included a court order. It is very valuable, for one of the signatures on it is that of a man who has since disappeared. If I lost the document, or if it was taken from me, we would have no authority for going ahead with the scheme until we could find the missing man to get him to sign a new paper. And he might not do it. So you see I have to be on my guard."

"But what about this Sam Shackmiller?" Frank wanted to know.

"Well, while he and some others with him, whom I have not been able to locate, claim Golden Peak, they really have no right to it. But they have certain papers, which seem to prove their title to it, and the courts have recognized that right. My uncle claims that their documents are forged—at least the name of one man is—the same man who has disappeared, and if we can prove that his signature is not genuine it would invalidate their claim to Golden Peak."

"Then you could go ahead with the irrigation scheme?" suggested Andy.

"Yes, but I think my uncle is going ahead anyhow," said Billy. "He is relying on being able to prove later that Shackmiller and his crowd have no legal claim to Golden Peak, and so he is going to take a chance.

"In fact the dam is almost built, and soon the waters of the stream will begin to back up, making the irrigation lake. Then Golden Peak will be under water."

"Treasure and all?" exclaimed Frank.

"Yes, if there is a treasure there," laughed Billy. "I don't believe there is. Lots of people have had a try for it, but they never found anything.

"It seems that some years ago an old prospector came into town, saying he had struck it rich. He said he had discovered a treasure on Golden Peak; but whether it was gold, silver, or precious stones, no one ever found out, for, before he could tell he went crazy. For years he wandered about trying to relocate the treasure, if there was any, but that was all, except for the queer stories he told. So you see the thing simmers down to this:

"My uncle has a good title to every bit of land in the irrigation valley save Golden Peak. He owns all around it. The title to Golden Peak is in dispute and my uncle is sure that he has a moral if not a legal claim to that. If he can prove this one signature a forgery he will be all right. And he may be without that. But, at the same time, there is a certain document, of which, if the other fellows got possession, they could use against us, and stop the work."

"And who's got this document?" asked Andy.

"I have," said Billy quietly. "Here it is," and going to a tattered Latin dictionary he pulled from between the pages a folded paper.

"Great Scott!" exclaimed Frank. "I shouldn't think that was a very safe place to keep it, with that dangerous man about."

"The simplest place is the best," declared the Western lad. "I carried it about with me, and was nearly robbed of it. Then I decided to hide it here."

"Good idea," said Andy. "Nobody would think of looking in a Latin dictionary unless he had to."

"You wouldn't, anyhow," chimed in his brother.

"Oh, I'm as fond of study as you are," came the quick retort.

"But now the question is: Will you come West with me?" went on Billy. "If uncle is going to put the finishing touches on his dam, and flood the valley, he'll need my help. There may be a fight—or trouble—at the last minute. I do wish you'd come and help me. I want you—my uncle wants you. Come on!"

"And have a try for the treasure!" exclaimed Andy. "Shall we go, Frank?"

"Why, I'd like to—first rate," was the answer; "but I don't see how we are going to leave school before the term is ended. Dad and mother——"

"Oh, they'll let us go, I'm sure of it!" broke in Andy. "I'm going to telegraph to them and find out. Think of it, Frank! Out on the prairies! At the ranch—helping build a big dam—keeping off fellows who may want to dynamite it—finding the treasure of Golden Peak!"

"Oh, I know it would be great," admitted Frank. "But can we leave?"

"There isn't much more to this term," said Billy. "You could easily, during vacation, make up the work you miss."

"Perhaps," agreed Frank. "Go ahead, Andy, and wire the folks."

So it came about a little later that Mr. and Mrs. Racer received a long and expensive telegram—for Andy sent it collect—explaining matters, and asking permission to go out West.

"Those boys!" exclaimed their mother. "We never can allow it!"

"Oh, I don't know," said Mr. Racer, thoughtfully. "I happen to know of this Mr. Thornton, and he's a fine man. I never met his nephew, but our boys seem to like him. I'm almost persuaded to let them go. It will be a good experience for them. And I have always wanted them to see the West."

"Oh, but their schooling!"

"Well, as they say, they can make it up. Besides, there is not much of the term left—hardly half—and all education isn't in books, you know."

"Oh, I just know something will happen to them," sighed Mrs. Racer.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed her husband. "I guess I'll wire them they can go." And just to get even with his sons in a joking way he sent a much longer message than was necessary, and he sent it collect.

"They've got too much pocket money anyhow," he chuckled; "and they made me pay for the one they sent me."

But Andy and Frank never grumbled when they had to pay the telegraph toll. The importance of the message drove everything else out of their minds.

"Hurray!" they cried, bursting into Billy's room. "We can go!"

"Good!" exclaimed the Western lad. "Off for the prairies! That's the only place to live!"

---

A RAILROAD SMASH

"Say, this is great; isn't it?"

"All to the choo-choo!"

"And we've got nearly fifteen hundred miles of it before we get to the western part of Kansas!"

These were the comments and exclamations of Frank and Andy Racer, and their new chum Billy Chase, as they sat in a parlor car of a fast train, speeding westward. They were on their way to the Double X ranch, owned by Mr. Richfield Thornton, and they hoped not only to get the better of the men who were opposing Billy's uncle, but also to solve the mystery of Golden Peak. No wonder they were elated.

"And to think that last week we were boning away at Latin and Greek at Riverview Hall!" exclaimed Andy.

"Precious little boning you did," commented his brother, dryly.

"Get out, you. I did as much as any of the fellows. Didn't Doctor Doolittle say I was well up in my studies when he wrote to dad, after we thought of coming away? And didn't he say I could get back at 'em in the fall without losing any ground? I guess that's good evidence that I'm not at the foot of the class, little one!"

"Pooh! Doctor Doolittle would have said that about any one whom he wanted to have come back to school next term," rejoined Frank.

"Particularly after what you fellows did for the institution," put in Billy. "But I guess you won't miss much by quitting before the end of the term."

"No," assented Frank. "I'm glad we did decide to come, but I can hardly realize it yet."

Indeed the change had come about so quickly that they could hardly comprehend it. Once they had asked their father's permission to depart for the prairie land, and had received his consent, matters had moved swiftly.

They had arranged with Doctor Doolittle not to lose their places in class, and to be given the proper examinations later so as to gain their promotion in the Fall. Then they had begun to pack, and Billy had wired his uncle that he and his friends were coming.

But there was despair in the hearts of the chums whom Frank and Andy left behind.

"Oh, say, what do you want to desert for?" wailed Jack Sanderson.

"Just when the baseball season is at its best, too," added Ward. "I know we'll funk in most of the big games we play now."

"Nonsense!" laughed Frank. "You'll do all the better."

"We will not!" insisted John North, but Frank and Andy had gone too far now to turn back, and their preparations went on apace.

"Well, there's one thing about it," said Duke Yardly, a day or so before the time set for Frank and Andy to leave. "We'll have to give 'em a bang-up farewell spread."

"That's what!" agreed the others, and a "bang-up" spread it was, too, especially when some one insisted on setting off a "flower pot" of red fire without removing the cover. There was an explosion that brought every professor out on the run, but no damage was done, save that Jack Sanderson had his eyebrows singed.

"But it only adds to your manly beauty," laughed Frank.

And so the feast went on, and the Racer boys were toasted again and again in everything mild, from ginger ale to strawberry pop.

"And you'll be sure to come back in the Fall, won't you, fellows?" asked Ward Platt, when the time came to say good-bye.

"Sure," promised Andy. "We'll come back millionaires—maybe."

"And maybe—not," added his brother, significantly.

"Oh, well, we'll have a good time, and lots of excitement, anyhow," declared the younger lad.

Neither he nor his brother realized, however, what kind of excitement nor what manner of fun they were to have on the prairies.

Then came a trip to New York, where the brothers further outfitted themselves for their trip. Billy Chase went with them, being their guest at the Racer mansion for several days.

Mrs. Racer renewed her protest about the boys going off on what seemed such a dangerous mission, but they laughed at her fears, and said they could take care of themselves.

"And I believe they can," Mr. Racer said. "They've got to see life, and I want them to see the good clean side of it, such as they will meet with out West. I like that young Chase, too. He's got a thinking head on his shoulders, even if he is only the age of our boys. He'll make his mark, some day."

"But think of the danger they may be in," said Mrs. Racer.

"Nothing unusual," insisted her husband. "Travel is very safe now. I almost wish I were going with them," and with a sigh he started for his office, where a tangle of affairs needed his attention; for, though he was a wealthy merchant, he devoted much personal attention to his business.

And so it came about that Andy, Frank and Billy were in the parlor car, speeding westward. They would be several days on the journey, for they had elected to go by a route that would afford them a glimpse of some fine scenery.

"Might as well have a good time while we're going," said Frank.

"Especially as we're not in much of a hurry," added Andy.

Billy said nothing, but when the train had pulled out of the station he had looked around apprehensively, and had breathed more freely when they were well started.

"Do you think that lame man will try to follow you?" asked Frank.

"I think he's equal to it," was the answer. "He and his crowd would do anything to prevent my uncle from carrying out his plan of making the irrigation lake. But I don't see anything of Shackmiller."

"I think we've given him the slip," decided Frank.

"Then let's enjoy ourselves," proposed Andy. "I've just thought of something."

"A trick, I'll wager," spoke Frank.

"Well, sort of," admitted the younger lad. "Do you see that fussy old gentleman over there?" and he pointed to one who had kept the porter busy waiting on him ever since the train started.

"Sure we see him," admitted Frank. "We'd be blind if we didn't. Are you going to pull his chair out from under him, or merely toss him off the train?"

"Neither one," declared Andy stoutly. "I guess you think I don't know how to work tricks."

"I've seen you pull off one or two that you wished you hadn't tried," commented his brother, dryly.

"Not this time," said Andy. "What I'm going to do is this: Right across the aisle from the fussy man is an old maid. I'm going to change their valises, for they're just alike, and I'll put the man's where the lady's is, and terra firma."

"Terra firma?" repeated Billy, much mystified.

"Yes, that's Latin for opposite," said Andy, innocently.

"Oh, you mean vice versa," laughed Frank. "You're going to switch their bags; eh?"

"Sure thing. And when the fussy little old man opens the one he thinks is his, and finds a set of false curls and a box of face powder, he'll go up in the air; and as for the old maid, when she sees the man's things—Oh, well, she won't have a fit I guess! Oh, no!"

"How are you going to do it?" asked Frank.

"Oh, I'll work it somehow. You just watch me."

Frank and Billy laughed and then proceeded to admire the scenery, while Andy began planning how he might carry out his trick.

"I have it!" he finally announced. "I'll stroll past the old maid, and ask her if she doesn't want a drink of water. I've noticed her fidgeting for the last ten minutes, and I'm sure she's dry, and too bashful to ask the porter for a drink, or get it herself. Then I'll be near enough to switch the bags."

"Go ahead. You'll get caught, sure," declared Frank.

Andy only laughed recklessly, and started down the aisle of the swaying car intending to approach the maiden lady.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked her politely.

"Thank you, I would," she answered, with a smile. "I cannot walk in these swaying cars very well, and I'm afraid I don't know how to get water from those patent faucets."

"I'll get you one," said Andy, with as innocent a face as if he had never played a practical joke in his life. He accepted a collapsible cup, which the elderly lady held out to him, and, as he took it, he winked at his companions, farther down the aisle, and with a sly motion of his foot put the valise where he could easily reach it. At the same time he swayed over toward the old gentleman, as though the lurch of the train had tossed him off his balance.

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" gasped Andy. "I—er——"

"All right," growled the crusty old man. "Be more careful next time."

"I will," said Andy, and with another wink at his friends, he shoved the man's bag across the aisle so that it was beside that of the maiden lady.

It did not take Andy long to return with the water. As he was about to hand it to the lady, he made another quick motion with his foot, and the transfer of the bags was accomplished.

Andy was in the act of winking at his chums, to indicate that he had carried out his trick, when there was a sudden lurch of the train. The brakes went on with a quickness that almost made Andy turn a somersault.

The cup of water flew out of his hand, straight for the old gentleman, who was showered.

"What does that mean?" he fairly roared. "Some more of your carelessness. I'll report you to the conductor!"

"I didn't mean——" began Andy. But that was as far as he got.

The next instant the train stopped with a crash and a shock that threw nearly everyone from his or her seat, sliding them along the aisle of the car.

Andy shot along, colliding with Frank and Billy. The old maid found herself under a chair, two seats away, and the old gentleman who wore a wig that slipped down over his face, was catapulted across the aisle. Then came a silence, while several voices cried:

"It's a wreck! We've smashed into something!"

---

THE MAN WHO LIMPED

Instantly the car was in confusion. Men and women, struggling to their feet from where they had been thrown by the impact of the blow, began rushing about hardly knowing what they were doing. One young lady raised a small hand bag, and was about to smash it through a window.

"Don't do that!" yelled Frank, racing toward her.

"But I must! I must!" she cried. "I want to get out! The place is on fire!"

"There is no fire!" shouted Frank. "You are in no danger in this car, but if you smash the glass you'll cut yourself!"

Even then the girl did not seem to comprehend. She looked at Frank with fear in her eyes, and once more raised the bag. Not until he grasped her wrist, and gently took the small satchel from her, did she seem to comprehend. Then he led her to a seat, for the chairs, strongly bolted to the floor of the car, had not torn loose.

"This car is not damaged a bit," went on Frank, in as calm tones as were possible under the circumstances. "You can see that both doors are in place, and you can get out that way, if you wish."

"Oh, indeed I do!" cried the girl. "Please take me out of here! Oh, what a wreck! But I'm glad you didn't let me break the glass."

"You would have been hurt if you had," said Frank. "As it is, you do not seem to be injured."

He looked her over critically. She was quite a pretty girl, aged about eighteen, and aside from a slight disorder of her hat and dress she was none the worse for the wreck.

"No, I am not hurt," she admitted. "I don't know why I wanted to smash that glass. It seemed that I was in some burning building and must get out that way. Oh, I wonder if any one is hurt?"

"I am afraid so," answered Frank gravely. "But all in this car seem to have escaped very luckily."

His brother was picking himself up from under a seat, and Billy, who had been hurled toward a passage leading to a private compartment, came limping back.

"Hurt?" asked Frank.

"Not much. Just a twisted ankle. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Let's go outside and see what happened."

"Take me with you," pleaded the girl. "I can't bear to stay in here after that awful crash."

Frank looked to see his brother approaching and then he helped the girl along the aisle, as she was trembling from fright.

The maiden lady, for whom Andy had gotten the water, was getting up, and feeling of her curls as if to see if any were missing. They were all in place, and, after smoothing down her dress, she seemed more composed, though she was pale.

The old gentleman across the aisle from her, however, seemed dazed. He still sat on the floor of the car, with the water from the cup Andy had carried trickling down his face, and in one hand held his wig, which had slid off his shiny, bald pate. He was contemplating the mass of hair as if wondering whose it was, and where he had seen it before. Then he caught sight of Andy and a flood of red surged into his face.

"Here, you!" he called. "Help me up. You're responsible for this."

"Me responsible?" queried Andy in surprise.

"Yes. You were passing me with that cup of water when everything went to smash. Why did you do it? Answer me. I demand to know."

"Well," said Andy slowly, "I did spill the water on you—but I couldn't help it. The train stopped too suddenly. But I can't see how you make it out that I caused the wreck."

"Wreck? Is it a wreck? Oh, don't say that, young man!" pleaded the man, now taking a different tack. "I've always been in fear of a wreck. It can't be possible I'm in one now."

"Well, you're in one now, all right," went on the younger Racer lad; "though how bad it is I can't tell. Certainly this car didn't sustain much damage. I'm glad we took a parlor coach," he added to Billy. "They're heavier, and stand shocks better."

"That's right," agreed the Western lad.

"Oh dear me! A wreck!" exclaimed the old man. "Oh, will no one help me up. I—er—Oh, I beg your pardon, madam!" he said hastily, as he saw the maiden lady looking at him. "I do beg your pardon. Just one moment," and then hastily turning his back toward her he adjusted his wig on his bald head, and tried to get to his feet.

"We'll help you," said Andy, forgetting all about the changed valises.

"A wreck! Bless my soul!" exclaimed the man. "And I forgot to take out an accident policy. How unfortunate! I've traveled all my life," he went on, speaking to the two boys; "and never before did I go without an accident policy. I never was in a wreck yet, and now the first one that happens to me I have no insurance."

"But you don't need it," said Andy. "You're not hurt."

"How do you know?" asked the man quickly. "I may have a fractured liver for all you can tell. But if I have, I'll sue the railroad, even if I did forget to take out a policy. Oh bless my heart!"

Leaning heavily on Andy, he made his way out of the car. The old maid seemed capable of taking care of herself, but Billy went over to her and helped her to the door.

The parlor car conductor came running in, seemingly much excited:

"Any one here hurt?" he cried.

"I—I may be!" exclaimed the fussy old man. "I'm not sure yet—I'm going to have a doctor look me over, and I'll let you know later, conductor. And if I am hurt, I'll sue——"

"Oh, I guess you're not hurt much," murmured the conductor. "Any one else?"

"I don't believe anyone was seriously hurt in this car," spoke Billy. "They're all out but us, anyhow."

"I'm glad to hear it," was the rejoinder.

"Was it much of a wreck?" asked the Western lad.

"Yes, pretty bad. A switch was left open, and we ran onto a siding and into a train of box cars. They were not loaded, however, which made them easier for our engine to plow through."

"Many killed?"

"None, so far, though several are badly injured. Our engine climbed right on top of the freight cars."

"That must be a great sight," said Billy.

He helped the lady down the steps, and there she was taken in charge by a number of other ladies, who had gotten over their first fright, and had organized themselves into a sort of relief corps. Billy looked forward and saw a strange sight.

The passenger train, going at high speed, had run head-on into a string of empty box cars. The first two had been split lengthwise, and the pieces tossed aside. But the passenger engine had fairly climbed the third one, and had come to a stop reared up in the air like some mechanical monster charging an enemy.

"Some wreck, this!" exclaimed Billy. As he spoke he saw wreaths of smoke arising from the shattered cars.

"The wreck's caught fire," he thought. "From the coals of the boiler. I hope every one is out of the coaches!"

One or two of the passenger cars had been slightly smashed, and some were tossed from the rails. The parlor car, however, stayed on, as did the coaches back of it.

The engineer and firemen had jumped when they saw the crash coming, the engineer having put on the emergency air brakes, however, which locked the wheels. But the train had been going too fast to stop in time.

Billy saw Frank and Andy approaching, each of them having turned their charges over to others.

"Well, we got out of that lucky," said Frank, with a shake of his head as he looked at the burning wreck.

"I should say so," agreed Andy. "No more smash-ups for mine!"

"I wonder if everyone is out?" mused Billy. "Let's take a look."

As all about them was confusion, with half-frenzied men and women crying aloud, and with the injured ones moaning, the boys realized that no one might think of the helpless ones possibly imprisoned in the cars, that would soon be consumed by the flames.

As they approached the fire they saw a man leap from one of the forward coaches. At the sight of him, Billy exclaimed:

"There he is! I thought we'd left him behind!"

"Who?" asked Frank.

"That man—Shackmiller."

"That isn't he—at least he isn't the one who attacked you," declared Andy. "That man had a beard, and this one is smooth shaven."

"Yes, but look at his limp," said Billy in quiet tones. "He walks exactly like Shackmiller. He's followed me after all, and I've got to carry that paper with me. What shall I do?"

The Racer boys did not know how to answer him, and, indeed at that moment there was no chance, for, a second later, there came a terrific explosion, and the body of the man who limped was hurled toward them through the air.

---

---

THE RELIEF TRAIN

"Look out!" yelled Frank.

"The boiler has blown up!" added Andy. "Run for cover!"

But there was no need, even had there been time to do so—to race against the awful speed and power of steam—for the one explosion was followed by no others.

For a moment the air was filled with flying debris, pieces of the locomotive boiler, and bits of the wrecked cars. But, fortunately, the mass scattered, and fell to one side, so that none of it hit the unfortunate survivors of the wreck.

The man whom Billy had called Shackmiller—the man he so feared—had been hurled forward, rather than up, as though blown along, slightly above the surface of the ground by some mighty wind.

"That's the end of him!" cried Frank. "He'll be killed sure!"

"How did he happen to be near the boiler?" asked Andy, but there was no chance to answer him, had anyone been so inclined. For at that instant the crumpled-up body of the man fell on a pile of the car seat cushions that had been carried out to make beds for the wounded ones.

"Let's see how badly he is hurt," suggested Billy. "Poor fellow. I hate to see him suffer, even if he is a plotter."

They rushed toward where the man had landed. So did a number of others—nearly all save those who were looking after the injured passengers.

"He's done for," murmured Billy. But even as he spoke the man moved.

"Quick! Get the doctor here!" called the conductor of the train, and the much over-worked physician began to work on the man.

"Say, that was a close call for us," remarked Andy, when the excitement had somewhat calmed down.

"I should say yes," agreed his brother.

"And on our first day out," added Billy. "I'm afraid you fellows will think I got you in bad, having a railroad smash to start off with."

"That part's all right," said Andy. "We like the excitement, but——"

"Well, if he hasn't nerve!" exclaimed Frank. "Is that all the sympathy you have for the ones who were hurt?"

"Of course not!" snapped Andy. "I'm as sorry as you are that any one was injured, but as long as we're in for excitement we might as well have a railroad wreck as anything else."

"You're the limit," said Frank. "Well, now that the boiler has gone up, and there's no danger from that, let's finish looking at what we started to see when the steam went off."

But it was not easy to approach very close, as the splintered box cars, into which the locomotive had plowed, were now blazing fiercely. There was no means of extinguishing the fire, and it simply had to be allowed to burn itself out. The wounded had been carried to places of safety, and were now resting on the car seats. The man who had followed our heroes was the worst hurt of any, and the doctor did not have much hope for him.

The trainmen were getting out the baggage of the passengers, and helping the express and mail clerks to save the contents of their cars before the fire should spread to them.

In a great measure, however, the excitement caused by the wreck had calmed down, when it was found there was no loss of life.

The accident had occurred while the train was passing through a farming section, and soon the countrymen, for miles around, flocked to the scene, coming in wagons and on foot. They offered to care for any who did not want to continue their journey, and some women, whose nerves were shattered, took advantage of the kind offers.

Not so the little old lady on whom Andy had been playing the innocent trick when the smash came. She was as calm and collected as she had been at first. And the man whose wig had come off had somewhat regained his composure.

"I should think you could get a relief train here before this!" the man snapped to the conductor.

"It's coming—it's coming," said that much-harassed official. "They're coming as fast as they can get here."

"Well, I'm going to sue your road for damages, whether I'm hurt or not," the man went on. "I'll be delayed, anyhow, and I'm going to have satisfaction."

"I hope you get it," murmured the conductor, as he hurried off to see that the others of the train crew were getting the baggage and other stuff out of the way of the advancing flames.

The three boys walked about, lending a hand whenever they could, and talking about the accident. They had a glimpse of the locomotive, almost turned over, where it had crashed into the cars, and had reared up.

"That's what made the boiler explode," was Frank's opinion. "The water level was changed, and some part of the boiler had none in. The fire kept getting hotter and hotter and the steam got to such a pressure that it blew the steel apart."

"If it had happened a minute later we'd have been in it," said Andy. "I wonder what Shackmiller was doing so near the engine—that is, if it was he?"

"Oh, it was he, all right," was Billy's comment. "I'm sure I wasn't mistaken, even though he had shaved off his black beard. He was following me. Probably he was in some other car all the while, and when the crash came, fearing I might see him, he ran up ahead to hide. Then he got near the boiler just as the explosion came. Well, I don't wish him any bad luck, but I hope this ends his following me."

"Have you the paper safe?" asked Andy.

"Yes, it's all right—pinned to the inside of my vest pocket," was the answer.

There was a shrill whistling down the track, and the sound of a fast-puffing locomotive that could be heard above the roar and crackle of the flames. A flagman came running up to the group of trainmen and others who surrounded the place where the injured ones lay.

"The relief train!" he shouted, waving his red flag. "Here is the relief train!"

"That's good," said the doctor with a sigh of satisfaction. "I need medicines and bandages for these injured. It didn't come any too soon for him," he added, and nodded toward Shackmiller.

---

FORWARD AGAIN

Getting the injured aboard the relief train was the first care of everyone, including the wrecking crew, that had come in response to the telegraphed appeal for aid. Tenderly the men and women, and one or two children, were carried into a car that had been temporarily converted into a hospital.

Several physicians had come on the relief train, and a number of trained nurses, so that those with hurts were assured of every attention.

"I'm afraid we'll have to operate on that man," Frank heard the physician who had been on the wrecked train say to one of the relief doctors.

"Which man is that?"

The first doctor pointed to Shackmiller, who was being carried into the hospital car.

"He has a fractured skull," went on the doctor who had made the first examination. "He's the worst hurt of the lot. It was a mighty lucky accident otherwise."

Two engines had come with the relief train, and also a big wrecking derrick. Now that the passengers—injured as well as those not hurt—were being looked after, the wrecking crew turned their attention to saving as much of the railroad property as possible.

By means of a switch, the empty freight cars were pulled away, so that no more of them, save those entangled in the locomotive, would burn. Then the passenger coaches were pulled out of the way, some of them having to be put back on the rails. Others were lifted to one side, as so much junk, for in a railroad wreck, after the saving of life, next in importance comes the "clearing of the line," so that traffic may not be held up any longer than necessary.

With as many of the cars cleared away as possible, the wrecking crew next attacked the fire. There was no water with which to fight it, but chemical extinguishers were used, and with long poles and axes the burning timbers were torn apart, so as to afford the flames less to feed on. In a remarkably short time, comparatively speaking, the scene of the wreck was much changed, and something like order was brought out of chaos.

"Get aboard! Get aboard the relief train, those who wish to go on to their destinations!" called the conductor.

"I guess that means us; doesn't it?" asked Andy.

"Sure it does," asserted Frank.

"Unless you're going to back out," added Billy.

"Not much!" exclaimed Frank. "We've started and we're going to see this thing through. We said we'd help you, and we will; eh, Andy?"

"That's what! We'll find out where the treasure of Golden Peak is, or know the reason why."

This was just the spirit the Racer boys always showed. Andy might be quick and impulsive, but he had something of the quiet determination of Frank, and together they made a "team" that was hard to beat.

All the injured having been made as comfortable as possible, the other passengers filed into the cars of the relief train, leaving the wrecking crew to do their work. By means of a freight switch the relief train could get back on the main track and pass around the wreck.

"Well, our baggage is all right," announced Frank, as he saw their trunks, among a number of others, taken from the smashed car and put aboard the other. "Now we must send word to father and mother that we are safe, so they won't worry."

"That's right," agreed Andy.

"As my uncle doesn't know just what train I'm coming on he won't be alarmed," said Billy, "so there is no need to send him word. But you fellows ought to wire home, for there'll be all sorts of newspaper stories of this smash."

The conductor readily undertook to forward any messages which passengers might wish to send, and the Racer boys filed theirs with him. Then the relief train left the sad scene, carrying many who had thankful hearts that it was no worse, for the escape of nearly all the passengers had been little short of miraculous.

"Well, we're on our way again," remarked Andy, as they made themselves comfortable in the car.

"And there is the little old lady, and the man whose valises you switched," said Frank. "But I guess the trick is spoiled, Andy, for neither of them seem to have any baggage."

This was true, the satchels of the pair having been missed in the confusion. The owners were too excited to notice it. Andy's plans had come to naught.

"Oh, well, I don't care," he said. "A joke would lose its flavor now, anyhow. I'll get a chance to play another before we reach the prairies, and if I don't, I can have some fun with the cowboys."

"You want to be careful about that," warned Billy. "A cowboy is a bad customer to play a joke on, unless he takes it in the right way. He's very likely to get back at you worse than you expect."

"Oh, I guess I can take care of myself," said Andy, airily.

"That's just like him," murmured Frank. "He'll get his good and plenty some day, and it'll teach him a lesson."

Little was talked of in the train save the recent accident. Some who had loved ones in the hospital car made frequent trips to it to learn how they were doing, and most of the reports were favorable.

"How's the man who was hurt in the boiler explosion?" asked Billy, as the doctor who had first attended the wounded ones came through their car.

"Not very well," was the grave answer. "We want to operate, but we can't risk it on the train. We are hoping for the best."

Almost unconsciously Billy put his hand in his pocket where he carried the valuable paper, and there was a look of relief on his face as he felt its folds.

The rescue train ran to the nearest station which, fortunately, happened to be in a city where there was a hospital. To this institution the worst of the injured were taken, others being sent to hotels. Those who wished to continue their journey were to be provided with accommodations on the next regular train, and our boys took advantage of this offer.

They delayed long enough, however, to receive a congratulatory message from Mr. and Mrs. Racer, and there was added a caution to be very careful in the future.

"Mother put that in, bless her heart!" said Andy, and though he spoke lightly there was a trace of tears in his voice.

"I—I wish I had one to send me a message," said Billy; and there was longing in his tones.

That night saw our heroes once more speeding to the West and in sleep they did their best to forget the harrowing experience through which they had passed that day.

"And we're leaving Shackmiller behind," said Billy. "I won't worry so much now."

"Well, we're making time," observed Frank, after breakfast the next morning. He looked out at the scenery speeding past. The rapid click of the rails told that indeed the engineer was sending his train ahead at high speed.

"I hope we don't hit anything," remarked Andy.

"Here! Drop that kind of talk!" exclaimed his brother, playfully punching him. "We've had enough of a hoodoo so far—don't mention it again."

Owing to the fact that they had to change to another railroad, they were obliged to spend several hours, the next day, in a large city. They took advantage of the stop to stroll about, and even go to a theatrical matinee, which effectively broke up the weariness of waiting.

"This beats boning away at Riverview Hall," said Andy, as they came out of the playhouse, and headed for the railroad station.

"Oh, school wasn't so bad," declared Frank. "We had good times there; didn't we Billy?"

"Sure we did. I'll never forget how you fellows threw a scare into me the night you had on the black beards. I sure did think Shackmiller and his gang had me cornered."

"And that was what made you act so frightened all the while?" asked Frank. "Fear of losing that paper you carry?"

"That was it. I'm not half as nervous as I was. By the way, I think I'll send my uncle a message."

"What about?" asked Andy.

"Oh, just to let him know we're on our way, and that Shackmiller has been left behind."

They filed into the nearest telegraph office, and Billy soon had the message written out. As he was paying for it, the operator remarked:

"Sageville, Kansas, eh? I don't often get messages for there. But this is the second one that has passed over the wires to-day for that place."

"It is?" exclaimed Billy. "Was the other one to my uncle?"

"I don't remember. I just remember the name Sageville. The message only passed through this office. It didn't originate here. It came from Northup, in Pennsylvania."

"Northup—Pennsylvania!" exclaimed Billy. "Why, that was where the relief train brought us after the wreck—where the injured were left. And a message went from there to Sageville, you say?"

"That's right," assented the operator. "Quite a coincidence."

"Can you tell me who the message was to, and who sent it?" asked Billy eagerly.

The agent shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm not allowed to give out any information like that."

---

ON THE PRAIRIES

Billy Chase looked at the two Racer boys, and then back at the telegraph operator.

"Is there any way in which I could get that information?" he asked. "It may be very important to me."

"I'm afraid you can't get it," replied the agent. "In the first place, I only happened to hear the message as it went over my wires, and, though I caught it all, for I was not busy at the time, it would be as much as my job was worth to repeat it."

"Why?" asked Frank.

"Because a telegraph company regards a message entrusted to it just as sacred as Uncle Sam does the mail. No one but the persons directly interested are allowed to know of it."

"Then there's no chance for me to find out about it?" remarked Billy.

"I'm afraid not," answered the operator. "But why are you so anxious?"

Then the Western lad told something of the trouble he and his uncle had been experiencing, and how he had been followed by a man who wanted to get possession of certain papers. Then he told of the wreck, and of this man being injured.

"I think that message you overheard, as being sent to Sageville, was from him," said Billy. "Maybe he recovered enough to tell that he was laid up, and to put some of his confederates on my track. In that case I'd like to know about it."

"Well, I don't blame you for wanting to know," commented the agent; "but, as I said, I can't tell you anything. The company forces me to remain quiet. I couldn't give out any information about your message if some one should ask me," and he tapped the paper on which Billy had written his telegram.

"No, I suppose not," agreed the western lad, "and yet if I knew whether that message was from Shackmiller, and to whom it went, I might save my uncle a lot of future trouble. But if I can't—I can't—that's all."

"Sorry, but that's the way it is," concluded the agent, and the three boys went out.

"I believe it was from Shackmiller!" declared Andy, who often drew impulsive conclusions.

"What makes you think so?" asked Frank, who was slower in making his judgments.

"Oh, well, I just feel so. I think that when he recovered consciousness, and realized that he was laid up, he started someone else on our trail."

"Maybe," admitted Frank; "but it's pretty hard to decide. I wonder how he came to follow us in the first place? I thought we had given him the slip."

"Oh, he's as sharp as a fox," declared Billy. "Lots of times I thought I had fooled him, but he'd always turn up when I least expected him. He kept track of me somehow, though I couldn't always trace him. He knew I had that paper, and he found out that I was coming West."

"That last was easy enough," put in Andy. "It was talked of all over the school."

"Yes, I suppose he didn't have much difficulty in finding out that part," went on Billy. "And now, if he has started someone else on my trail, I've got to look sharp."

"We all will," said Frank. "We'll stand by you, Billy."

"Surest thing you know," agreed Andy. "Well, let's get back to the station; it's almost train time. Oh! look at those bananas! I'm going to have some!" and he darted into a fruit store.

"Andy isn't serious long at a time; is he?" asked Frank of his chum, with a smile.

"No, and maybe it's a good thing. There's enough serious people in this world," and Billy's tone was a trifle depressed.

"He's worrying about that message," thought Frank, and he was right.

Andy came out with a big bag of bananas and passed the fruit around to his friends. The younger Racer lad was in a joking mood, and made funny comments of the street scenes, but, though Frank laughed, Billy hardly smiled.

"Oh, I say, now; this won't do, old man!" expostulated Andy, after they had seen a fat pug dog, led by a fleshy lady, run between the legs of a tall, thin man, tripping him up. Frank and Andy went into roars of laughter, but Billy barely smiled. "This won't do at all," went on the younger Racer lad. "What's the matter, Billy? You're as glum as a burned cork."

"Well, to tell the truth," was the answer, "I am worrying about what that telegraph operator told me. I more than half believe that Shackmiller is putting someone after me."

"What if he is?" asked Andy. "We can get the best of him. Don't worry."

"That's right," chimed in Frank. "It may have been only a coincidence after all. Don't cross a bridge until you hear footsteps approaching on horseback."

"All right, I'll try," and Billy laughed for the first time since hearing the news that disturbed him. "Maybe I'm foolish, after all, to worry."

"Of course you are," said Frank. "Brace up."

After the next day's travel they reached the prairie country, and the boundless expanse of gently-rolling land was a delight to the Racer boys, who, though they had traveled much, had never been so far West.

"Say, this is great!" cried Andy, as his eyes took in scenery that was strange to him.

"It's immense!" added Frank.

"It's immense, all right," agreed Billy, with a smile. "You haven't begun to see the prairies yet. It's like the ocean; you don't appreciate it until you've seen it a dozen times—or more. It takes a long while to get acquainted with the West."

As the train passed on, the boys saw signs of the extensive way in which agricultural operations were carried on in that locality. Here were no small farms, of a few acres each, but a vast extent of territory.

They passed great herds of cattle, and whizzed by long trains of the patient beasts which were being shipped East. They saw big fields, extending farther than their eyes could reach, under cultivation, or being prepared.

Then there was plowing, which was being done in one or two places. Here were no horses hitched to the implement, with a man or boy following, with the lines about his waist. Instead, gang plows—a score or more—were pulled through the mellow soil at once by many teams or by a steam engine.

"Some plowing, that!" commented Frank.

"I should say yes," agreed Andy.

"That's the only way we can get work done in the West," said Billy. "All the operations are on a large scale. Why, if a farmer or rancher tried to do as you folks do out East—work a farm with a team of horses and one hired man—the West wouldn't be half as developed as it is to-day. There'd be buffaloes and Indians here instead of wheat lands and cattle ranches. The West is big—as big as all outdoors, and it takes big men and big business to keep it going!"

He grew enthusiastic as he proceeded, and the Racer boys saw that he meant what he said.

"You must like the West and the prairies," commented Frank.

"I do," was the answer. "There's no place like it, and when I get through with my uncle's Eastern business, maybe I'm not going back. Not that I didn't have a good time there, and that I don't like Riverview Hall," he hastened to add, "but—it isn't the West."

"No, I should say not—not by a long shot!" exclaimed Andy, as he looked across the boundless expanse of the prairies.

---

"WE ARE BEING FOLLOWED!"

"Here we are, fellows!" exclaimed Billy Chase.

"Here?" asked Frank Racer.

"Where?" echoed his brother.

"Pulling into Sageville," answered the Western lad. "We'll be there in a few minutes now. Better get your stuff in shape."

"Say, if this is some place, where's no place?" asked Andy, for as he looked out of the car windows he saw nothing save the same prairies over which they had traveled for many hours.

"Oh, Sageville isn't much of a place, compared to your Eastern cities," answered Billy, with a laugh; "but it does very well for us. We think it quite a town. There it is," and, as the train swung around a curve, the Racer boys could see a small town just ahead.

"Is that Sageville?" asked Frank, half doubting, and thinking perhaps his new chum was perpetrating some joke.

"Sure it is," went on Billy, still laughing. "Can't you see the opera house? It's over a hardware store, that's true, but we have shows there once in a while, when some company gets stranded and has to work its way back to New York. And we've got a bank, that gets shot up every once in a while, so nobody keeps much money in it. The depot express safe is more sure, for there is generally a man on guard.

"Then we've got a grocery, with a drug store attachment that works late Saturday nights, and there was some talk, when I came away, of starting a moving picture emporium, if that's what they're called. I wonder if it materialized?"

He looked out of the open window, to get a better glimpse of the town, and added:

"Yes, there's a new skyscraper going up. I guess that's it," and he pointed to a one-story wooden building on which some carpenters could be seen working.

"Well, I'll be jig-swiggled!" exclaimed Andy. "I thought the town was larger than that," for truly it was but a small place.

"Larger!" cried Billy. "What do you want, anyhow? This is the biggest town in this section. Big! Why, it's got more room to grow in than half a dozen of your Eastern cities. Take your New York. That can't grow any. It's reached its limit. It's hide-bound. It can't even stretch, and the people are so close that they step on each other's corns. But out here it's different. Why, we can swell Sageville up until it could take in New York and never know it."

"Not this week, though," said Frank, with a laugh, and he felt a little nettled at the slight put on his home city.

"Oh, no, it'll take a little time," admitted Billy. "But we've got the room, and you Eastern folks haven't—that's the difference."

"Yes, it's big enough," admitted Andy, as he looked at the great expanse of prairie surrounding Sageville. "But it's awful lonesome-looking."

"Well, maybe it is now," confessed Billy. "That's because all the men are out on the ranches. But it livens up at night."

"I suppose they'll take us for tenderfeet," suggested Andy, with something like a sigh.

"Don't let that worry you," said Billy quickly. "I'll teach you the ropes, and they won't bother you if you keep still and don't try to get funny."

"Just remember that, Andy," said Frank, giving his brother a significant poke in the ribs.

"Oh, I'm no worse than you," retorted the younger lad; but, at the same time, he decided to be careful.

The train was slackening up now, ready for the stop. There were no other passengers preparing to get off the car where our friends were, save themselves.

"Not much travel out this way," commented Frank.

"No, this is rather the dull season. But I've seen as many as five persons get off a train at once," and Billy laughed to indicate that he was joking.

With a squeaking of the brakes the cars came to a standstill. Billy went out on the platform, at the same time remarking:

"There's Archie."

"Who's Archie?" asked Frank.

"One of Uncle Richfield's men. He's an old cattleman, a fine shot, and what he doesn't know about horses isn't worth losing any sleep over. His real name is Archibald Lynch, but we all call him Archie."

"Sort of girlish name for a man; isn't it?" inquired Andy.

"That's what Archie is always complaining about," said Billy. "He says he wonders why his folks ever saddled him with a name like that, but he can't get rid of it. Once he thought of adopting a new one, and he picked out 'Hank' as having the proper tone, but the boys only laughed at him, and kept right on calling him Archie. I guess he's used to it by this time."

The Racer boys looked to see a tall, bronzed man, with a weather-beaten face, shoulders that slightly stooped, and legs that were bowed from much riding of horses. He was a typical Westerner, with clear eyes that seemed to look right through you, and plenty of reserve strength.

He sat on the seat of a buckboard wagon, drawn by a team of small, wiry horses, and scanned the train narrowly.

"He's looking for us," said Billy.

"Is it far from here to the ranch?" asked Frank.

"Oh, about ten miles. But we make it in good time. Those horses can travel, though they don't look very stylish. Oh, there's Uncle Richfield!" and Billy waved to a tall, well-built man who was walking down the depot platform. "I didn't think he'd come to meet us—he's so busy," he added. "Hi, Uncle Richfield!" he called, and the man, looking up suddenly, waved his hand to his nephew.

"Hello, Billy!" he answered in a pleasant voice. "So you got here all right, did you? Boys with you?"

"Sure," was the answer. "I wouldn't lose them," and with that Billy leaped from the steps and made a rush for his uncle. The manner in which the two clasped hands, and looked into each other's faces for a moment, showed how close was the bond of sympathy between them.

"Hello, Archie!" called Billy a moment later, as he swung over to the old cattleman. "How are you?"

"Oh, able to sit up and take nourishment," was the quiet answer. "So you got here safe?"

"Yes, after the railroad company tried to smash us," was the answer. "Now, Uncle Richfield, let me introduce the Racer boys to you. Here you are, Frank and Andy, this is my uncle that I've been telling you so much about."

"I hope he didn't give me a bad character," said Mr. Thornton, as he smiled and held out his hand to the two brothers.

"Well, we're used to Billy by this time, and we know how to take what he says," said Frank, with a smile.

"Ha! ha!" laughed the ranchman. "I guess they've got you there, Billy, my boy."

Then came introductions to the old cattleman, who sat in the buckboard waiting for the start to be made for the ranch. Frank and Andy liked him at once, as they did Mr. Thornton. There was a frank and hearty manner about the Westerners; an atmosphere that seemed to make friends at once, and the Racer boys felt that they were not among strangers.

"Well, how are things going, Uncle?" asked Billy, as soon as the introductions were over. "I've told the boys as much as I knew myself," he added. "I thought you'd want them to know, as long as they're going to help us."

"Of course," replied Mr. Thornton. "Well, I can't say that things are going any too well. I seem to strike a snag every now and then. Just as I think I've got a clear track I'm held up by some action on the part of this Shackmiller and his crowd. But you say he's laid up?"

"Sure," replied Billy, and he told about the wreck.

"Well, he's got someone acting for him here all right," went on the ranch owner. "He's started another suit against me, and, though I know it won't amount to anything, still it holds up operations for a while."

"How is the dam coming on?" asked Billy.

"Pretty well. It's nearly completed, all but a small stretch that goes across the land that leads to Golden Peak. It is this little piece that's in dispute, not because that strip on which the remainder of the dam will stand is of any value, but because it's the only entrance to Golden Peak, and that's why they don't want me to use it."

"It's too bad," consoled Frank. "And is there really any treasure on the Peak?" he added eagerly.

"Treasure!" laughed Mr. Thornton. "Not a bit of it! That is all bosh—moonshine—it's like a lot of other stories that originate out West and keep growing until a lot of people believe 'em. The only treasure of Golden Peak is the sunshine and fresh air. I wish I could bring those fellows to their senses. Then I could go ahead, finish the dam, and have water enough so I could get bumper crops, and raise some decent cattle. As it is, I'm held up, and so are a lot of my neighbors who are going to get water from my lake.

"What we'll have to do, if this thing keeps up, is to organize, and drive these fellows out of the country. But never mind that now. How did you make out, Billy? Have you that paper safe? What kind of a trip did you have?"

Then began rather a long series of questions and answers between Billy and his uncle, and, as they can have very little interest for my readers, I will omit them. Sufficient to say that Billy told of the attack on himself and of how the Racer boys came to his rescue, and how he was followed by Shackmiller even on the train.

"But the wreck put him out of business," added Billy; "though he is still active, if that telegram was from him," and he related what the operator had said.

"Humph!" mused Mr. Thornton. "Well, I don't know just what to think. If Shackmiller is out of the way, even for a little while, it may be a good thing for us. On the other hand, it may force matters. We'll just have to wait and see what happens. But I reckon you boys are tired, and you'd like to get out to the ranch, and rest up."

"Oh, we're not so tired," said Frank; "but we would like to see the ranch."

"Then hop on the buckboard and Archie will drive you out there," said the ranchman.

"Aren't you coming, Uncle?" asked Billy.

"No, I've got some business to attend to in town. I came out with Archie this morning, planning to meet you. I'll ride back with James Perdue some time this evening. Just make yourselves at home when you get there. I told the Chinaman to have a good supper for you."

"Chinaman?" asked Andy.

"Yes, he's the cook," explained Billy. Then he gave his uncle the paper that was of such value, and the three boys, piling their baggage on the buckboard, took seats.

"Giddap!" called Archie to the horses, and they started off at a fast trot. Like everything else in the West, they were speedy—there seemed to be nothing slow there.

"Is my pony all right, Archie?" asked Billy, when they had turned out of town to the road that led over the prairies.

"Sure. He's as lively as ever. Needs some exercise, though."

"I suppose so. How about mounts for Frank and Andy?"

"Oh, I guess we can fix 'em up. Ride?" and he looked questioningly at the Racer boys.

"Not much," said Andy.

"A little," confessed Frank.

"Oh, you'll soon learn," declared Billy. "Everyone rides out here,—nobody walks;" and Frank and his brother had noticed that, brief as had been their time in the West.

They kept on, the sturdy little horses making good time, and the boys and the old cattleman talked of many things.

"Much of a force working on the dam now?" asked Billy.

"Not as many as there was," replied Archie. "There's only a small gap to fill now, to make the lake, but your uncle can't do anything until this dispute is settled. Them skunks is holdin' him back."

"Well, maybe we can help settle it," laughed Billy. "What's the matter, Frank?" he asked a moment later. "I notice you looking back a lot."

"I was trying to see who was in that wagon following us," replied the elder Racer lad.

"Following us!" exclaimed Billy, and he and Archie exchanged quick glances. "I don't see anyone," said Billy, a moment later, as he glanced to the rear.

"It's down in that hollow," replied Frank. "But it's a wagon, with two horses hitched to it, and three or four men in it."

"Three or four?" mused Archie. "It can't be your uncle, Billy. He wouldn't be following us so soon, for he said he had to stay in Sageville a couple of hours longer. Besides, Jim's wagon only holds two. Several men, eh? I guess we'll just look into this."

He slowed down the horses and looked back just in time to catch a glimpse of a vehicle behind them, almost hidden in a cloud of dust.

"They're stopping!" cried Andy, as he saw the other vehicle pull up. A man got down from it and seemed to be looking at one of the horses' hoofs.

"Humph! I don't know that outfit," said the old cattleman. "They must be on the wrong road. This one only goes to our ranch."

"Maybe they want to see Mr. Thornton," suggested Frank.

The cattleman shook his head.

"If it was that they'd have seen him in town," he replied. "He's there yet, and, no matter who they inquired of, if they were strangers, anybody could have pointed out Mr. Thornton. This looks queer. Did anyone get off the train when you did, boys?"

"No one besides ourselves," said Billy.

All four were now watching the other outfit. The men in the wagon seemed to be having a consultation, and there was apparently a difference of opinion, for one was seen to point toward the ranch, and several others waved their hands in the opposite direction. Finally the one who had gotten out of the wagon to look at the horses, climbed back again, and the steeds were swung about.

"Changed their minds," said Archie with a grunt. "I thought they were on the wrong road."

He drove on again, and the conversation was resumed. But Billy seemed thoughtful. It was perhaps an hour later, when they were nearing the ranch, that Billy turned, as he had done several times before, to glance back. As he did so he uttered an exclamation.

"We're being followed!" he cried. "There's the same wagon again!"

---

AT THE RANCH

"Followed!" exclaimed Archie Lynch, after the pause that greeted Billy's announcement. "What do you mean? Who would want to follow us?"

"I don't know," replied Billy frankly. "Certainly it can't be Shackmiller, for he's in the hospital. But that's the same wagon we saw a while ago, and we thought it had turned back. Those fellows are certainly following us."

There was no doubt about it, as all four of them could see a little later, for, as the vehicle in the rear topped a rise, it could be noted advancing slowly along the private road that led to the ranch.

"They don't seem to want to catch up to us," observed Andy.

"Maybe they're afraid we'll ask them some questions they don't want to answer," suggested Frank.

"I don't like the looks of it," murmured Billy. "But I'm glad Uncle Richfield has that paper."

"And he can look out for himself," observed the old cattleman, with a grin. "I guess there's nothing for us to do, Billy. We can't very well order the men off the road, for, though it's a private one, your uncle doesn't object to folks using it."

"No, I guess we can't do anything," agreed the Western lad. "But we'll tell Uncle Richfield about it, and he can make some inquiries."

"Look!" suddenly exclaimed Frank, and the eyes of all were once more turned on the wagon, which had been lost sight of for a moment in a cloud of dust. "They're turning off the road."

"So they are," agreed Andy. "I didn't notice any other road there."

"There isn't a regular road," said Archie Lynch. "But there's a sort of trail that leads to the river and the big dam that's almost completed. They've taken that road."

"What for?" asked Billy suspiciously.

"Say, I believe I have it!" exclaimed the old cattleman. "Your uncle was telling me the other day that he'd sent for a water-works expert, to report on the dam, and to see that everything was in good shape for the completion of it. He didn't quite trust the contractors, for they'd never tackled a job exactly like this before. That's who that party must be—the expert and his assistants. They're going to the dam."

"Oh, then that puts a different face on it," said Billy, much relieved. "But I should think Uncle Richfield would like to be with 'em when they make the inspection."

"He may come later," suggested Archie. "I guess it's all right. Giddap!" and his horses started off. The boys watched the other wagon. It was swinging away from them now, and a little later was lost to sight below some foothills, that marked the beginning of a rise of land, in which rose the river, that the ranch owner proposed curbing to make water his crops.

"Well, we'll be there in five minutes more," said Billy, as he stretched out his arms, and playfully poked Andy in the ribs.

"Ouch! Quit that!" yelled the younger Racer lad. "But I don't see any ranch."

"You will as soon as we get up on the next rise," was the answer. "The hills hide the houses. There's some of our stock, though," and he waved toward a herd of cattle that was roaming over the prairie.

"Golly! What a lot of 'em!" exclaimed Frank.

"Oh, that's only a small bunch," replied Billy. "Wait until you see 'em all—but you can't—not at once, for they cover a big stretch."

The Racer boys were beginning to realize the extent of the Thornton ranch, and to get some idea of the immensity of the prairies which stretched out for miles and miles in every direction.

A little later, as the buckboard swung over the rise, there came into view a cluster of low buildings, and the cattle corrals that made up the Double X ranch.

"Here we are!" yelled Billy, and the next minute he had leaped from the seat and was racing toward the stables, calling: "Matt! I say, Matt! Where are you? Where's Buffalo?"

A short, squat figure of a man came out, a bridle dangling from his arm. At the sight of Billy he threw up his hands.

"Glory be!" he ejaculated. "It's Billy himself! Well, but I'm glad t' see you! It's been a long time you were away among them tenderfeet. An' so you're back. Buffalo is it? Sure an' he's as lonesome for you as I am myself. I'll trot him out," and, having shaken hands with the lad, the man turned back into the stable, to come out presently leading a black horse that whinnied with delight when Billy approached.

"That's Matt Boyle, the ranch foreman," explained Archie; "and that's Billy's horse—Buffalo, he calls him—and a finer piece of horse-flesh never was."

"Jove, look at Billy ride!" cried Frank, for the Western lad had, with a bound, leaped to the back of his animal, and was speeding around the corral at a swift pace.

"I never knew he could do that," spoke Andy.

"Oh, shucks!" exclaimed Archie. "That's nothing. You wait until you see Billy do some real ridin'. Then you can open your eyes."

"I wonder if we'll ever be able to ride like that?" mused Andy.

"Of course you will, if you stay here long enough," said the cattleman. "It only takes practice."

"That's right, the same as it does for anything else—like being good," added Frank, with a nudge at his brother's ribs, bringing forth a grunt of protest.

Billy swept up to the buckboard, on the seat of which his chums still were, and pulling up his mount, suddenly cried out:

"Say, I didn't mean to be so impolite, but I couldn't wait any longer to get on Buffalo's back. Come on down and I'll take you into the house and introduce you to Aunt Kittie."

"That's all right—no apologies needed," said Frank. "We were just wishing we could ride like you."

"I'll have some mounts for you in a jiffy," replied the Western lad. "Come on now."

He slipped from the saddle, and, clapping his horse on the flank, said:

"Stable, old boy. I can't ride you any more now. I'll see you later."

But the beautiful animal turned and began nosing in Billy's pocket.

"He thinks I've got some lumps of sugar," the lad explained with a laugh. "No, not now, Buffalo. I'll bring some out to you. Better come and get him, Matt," he called to the foreman, and, as the latter approached, Billy introduced the genial Irishman to his chums.

"Well, Aunt Kittie, here we are!" cried Billy, a little later, as he led his chums to the residence of the ranch owner. The house was a low one, and all about it were various buildings, where horses were kept, the tools and implements for the ranch work stored, and quarters for the men provided.

"Oh, land sakes!" cried a voice, and a little woman, in an apron that seemed larger than she herself, hurried out on the porch, her face all smiles. "Land sakes, I'd have known you were here, even if you hadn't told me!" she cried, as she kissed Billy. "Oh, I'm so glad you're back," she went on. "It's been so lonesome without you. And these are the Racer boys, I expect," she went on, as she shook hands with them.

"Guessed it the first time, Auntie!" exclaimed Billy. "And now what have you got to eat? We're starved."

"I never saw you when you weren't!" she laughed. "But I guess the meal is ready. I told——"

She was interrupted by the thrusting forth of a head from a window of a small house a little distance from the main building, and a voice exclaimed:

"No hab got, Mlissie Tholnton. No hab got!"

"Hello, Sing-Song!" yelled Billy, as he saw the Chinese cook. "Got plenty of grub?"

"Me no Sing-Song—me Song Lee, Mlister Billy!" objected the Oriental. "Me Sing Lee!"

"Well, Sing-Sing or Sing-Song or Lee Song, never mind about that," laughed the Western lad. "Rustle up the grub and we'll call you anything you like."

"Billy, Billy!" expostulated his aunt, "wait a moment. Sing Lee wants to tell me something. What is it, Sing?" she asked.

"No hab got, Mlissie Tholnton," went on the Chinaman, making all his "r" sounds like an "l." Then, working his fingers into a complication of knots and twists, he continued: "No hab got pig glease for make twisty cakes."

"Pig grease," murmured Billy wonderingly. "That's a new one on me. And twisty cakes? What in the world does he mean, Aunt Kittie?"

"I expect he wants to tell me that he hasn't any lard to fry the crullers in, Billy," she answered, with a laugh.

"That's light," assented the cook. "No hab got—what can do?"

---

MR. THORNTON IS WORRIED

Laughing heartily at the Chinese cook's queer talk, Billy and his chums followed Mrs. Thornton into the house.

"Now, Billy," said his aunt, "you make the boys feel at home. Show them to their rooms—you know, the two near yours—and I'll see what I can do for Sing Lee. I told him to make some crullers when I knew you were coming, as I remembered how fond you used to be of them."

"Used to be!" exclaimed Billy, with the accent on the first word. "I am yet, Aunt Kittie, and I guess these fellows are too; aren't you?"

"Well, I guess we can manage to eat a few," assented Frank.

"Same here," came from Andy.

"All right," went on Mrs. Thornton. "Now just make yourselves at home, Frank and Andy, and I'll see if I can find some 'pig grease' for my queer cook."

"He certainly is a star," commented Frank. "'No hab got—what can do?' That's the limit in talk."

"Oh, that isn't a marker to what he says sometimes," declared Billy. "But come on and I'll show you where you're going to bunk. You can unpack as soon as Archie brings in your trunks."

The boys found pleasant rooms assigned to them. The house was like a large bungalow, all on one floor, for sometimes strong winds—cyclones in fact—blew over that portion of Kansas, making high buildings dangerous. The eating and sleeping quarters were in one building, and the cooking was done in another, a covered way connecting the two structures.

"Say, where'd you get all this stuff?" asked Frank, admiringly, as he saw Billy's room hung about with guns, knives, revolvers, horns of steers and buffaloes, and Indian trophies, such as bows, arrows, tomahawks and other implements of the chase.

"This is slick!" agreed Andy. "If we had this at Riverview we'd have the finest den going. Why didn't you bring it on?"

"Too much trouble to cart," answered Billy, with a laugh. "I picked up some of this stuff myself, and some my uncle had when he was a young fellow, when there were Indians out here and a few buffalo. Then my friends gave me things once in a while."

"It's swell, all right," said Frank admiringly, as he took down an Indian bow.

"I'd like to have some of these," remarked Andy, as he reached for a sheaf of arrows.

"Look out!" suddenly cried Billy.

"Why, what's the matter?" asked the Racer lad.

"Some of those points may be poisoned," explained Billy. "I cleaned them, as I got them, for fear of that, but I can't be sure that I got all the venom out at that. Better not scratch yourself with 'em. I ought to fasten them higher up."

"How are they poisoned?" asked Andy wonderingly, as he backed away, and looked up at the weapons.

"Of course I'm not sure that particular bunch is poisoned," went on the ranch boy; "but it's best to take no chances. Archie gave me those. He says the Indians used to get a big rattlesnake, and irritate him so he'd strike at anything. Then they'd fasten him in front of a cow liver and he'd bury his fangs in it until the liver reeked with poison. Then they'd rub their arrow tips in it, and there you are—or, rather, there you aren't, if you happen to be scratched by one.

"Of course that may not be so, but it sounds plausible, anyhow," concluded the Westerner, as he took down a handsome rifle, to show to his friends.

"Crimps! I wish there were Indians here now," said Andy, wistfully.

"Why, are you anxious to see how fast you can run—away from them?" asked Frank.

"Huh! I guess I wouldn't run any more than you," retorted Andy.

"The Indians are a back number," said Billy. "What few there are left are on reservations. But come on, I think I smell the ham and eggs," and he led the way to the dining-room.

It was not yet time for supper, but Mrs. Thornton, knowing the appetites of the boys, had prepared a meal for them, and they did ample justice to it.

"Did Sing-Sing-Song-Song 'hab got'?" asked Billy, as the time for dessert approached.

"Well, he has something, at any rate," answered Mrs. Thornton, and she placed on the table a pie ornamented with all sorts of devices made from sugar. The cook had drawn his patterns from the Orient.

"Looks like a Chinese laundry ticket," commented Billy, and truly the icing on the pie was in the shape of the queer letters of the Flowery Kingdom.

"I don't care how it looks, as long as it's got the taste," said Frank.

"And it sure has," added Andy, as he sampled the pastry.

The meal went on, with gaiety and laughter lending their aids to digestion, and when it was about over Mr. Thornton came in.

"Well, boys!" he exclaimed, "I see that you got here all right."

"Yes," replied Andy and Frank, while Billy asked:

"Did you meet those engineers, Uncle Richfield?"

"Engineers? No. What do you mean?"

"Why, when we drove out we saw a wagon back of us. It seemed to be following us—I mean the men in it did—and then they turned off by the short cut that leads to the dam. Archie thought maybe they were the men you sent for to inspect the concrete work, to see if it was all right. Were they?"

For a moment the ranch owner did not answer, and then he said slowly:

"No, Billy, they weren't. And you say they went out to the dam?"

"Well, they headed out on the cut-off road. But if you didn't see them, how do you know they weren't the expert and his men that you sent for?"

"Because," replied Mr. Thornton—and there came over his face a worried look—"because I got a letter from this expert just as I was leaving town to-day, saying he could not come out until next week. That's why I know that couldn't be his party. Besides, he'd come here first, as he doesn't know the location of the dam. I wonder who those fellows can be?"

There was something strange about it all, and the boys felt that Mr. Thornton was alarmed over the news.

"Can't you imagine who they might be?" asked his wife.

"No," he answered, with a shake of his head and a frown. "I don't like it, either. If I didn't know that this Shackmiller was laid up, as you told me, Billy, I'd say it was that rascal. And yet he would hardly come on my land, when he knows how I feel toward him."

"But I thought he and his crowd owned—or claimed to own—some land in between your two ranches," said Billy.

"He does claim to own it—a strip leading to Golden Peak—but he doesn't have to come on my land to get to it. I'm going to look into this," and Mr. Thornton got up to take down his hat and coat, which he had hung up on entering the house.

"Oh, Richfield!" exclaimed his wife. "You'll be careful; won't you?"

"Of course," he laughed. "But if any of that crowd is trespassing on my land they'd better go off in a hurry."

There was determination in Mr. Thornton's face as he prepared to investigate the occurrence that had given him cause for alarm.

"Get my horse ready, Archie," he called to the cattleman, who was out in the yard. "I'm going over to the dam."

"May we go along, Uncle Richfield?" asked Billy, eagerly.

"Oh, no!" exclaimed his aunt quickly. "If there's any danger——"

"There won't be," spoke her husband. "Yes, I guess you boys can trail along if you want to. But can you ride?" he asked, looking at Frank and Andy.

"Just a little," they confessed.

"I'm going to teach 'em soon," volunteered Billy. "But they can do well enough on Max and Major."

"Yes, I guess those animals are safe enough," admitted the ranchman, with a smile. "But they can't make very good time."

"Never mind," said his nephew. "You can ride on ahead, and I'll come along with Frank and Andy."

"Oh, we don't want to keep you back," protested the elder Racer lad.

"That's all right," returned Billy. "Maybe when Max and Major see Buffalo galloping along they'll show some speed. It's all right; we'll get there sometime, anyhow. Come on to the stables."

"Now you will be careful; won't you?" pleaded Mrs. Thornton, as the boys followed the ranchman out of the house.

"Of course, Aunty," promised Billy.

"Do you think there is any danger?" asked Andy, as he swung along beside the Western lad.

"Danger? Why, no, I guess not," said Billy, thoughtfully.

"Gee! I wish there was!" went on Andy, eagerly. "I'd like to see a good fight—not where anyone got hurt, of course," he hastened to add; "but just for some excitement."

"Oh," laughed Billy. "That's how the wind blows; eh? Well, you may see some excitement if Uncle Richfield finds those fellows on his land, and there may be a fight, but it will be the good old-fashioned kind, with fists. We don't run to guns out here half as much as some writers of Western stories would have it appear. But come on, there are the horses."

---

WARNED AWAY

Archie Lynch was leading out two fairly good-looking steeds, which did not seem to have much speed, but for which the Racer boys were duly grateful, for fast riding was not one of their accomplishments.

"Those are the ones you can take," said Billy, for his uncle, on reaching the stables in advance of the lads, had given orders to the old cattleman. "Here, Buffalo," he called, and his own steed, which Archie had saddled and bridled, came to his young master of his own accord.

"Trail along, boys," called Mr. Thornton, as he leaped to the back of his horse, and galloped off. "I'll wait there for you, if I don't start back. This may not amount to anything," he added, "but it's best to be sure."

Billy gave his two chums some brief advice about managing their mounts, and then the three rode off together, going much slower than Mr. Thornton. Andy and Frank found it to be no trouble at all to control their horses, for Max and Major were sedate old cow ponies that had long since gotten over any such childish tricks as shying or bucking.

"Let's see if they'll get a move on when they see Buffalo leaving them behind," suggested Billy, as they rode out of the ranch yard, and started across the prairie.

He spoke to his steed and the horse at once leaped forward, and to the delight of the two Racer boys, who did not care for the slow pace, their steeds also started to gallop. It was easier riding this way.

"That's great!" complimented Billy, when he saw how well Andy and Frank sat their saddles. "We'll make cowboys of you yet."

Once, while spending some time on a farm, the two brothers had learned the rudiments of riding, and this now stood them in good stead. Whether they were glad to be out in the open, away from the stable, or whether they wanted to show that they were good for something yet, did not develop, but certainly Max and Major kept up a fair gait, and, as Billy reined in his steed, the three boys rode along together, making better time than they had anticipated.

"Is it far to the dam?" asked Frank.

"About five miles," answered Billy. "We'll strike right across the plains for it, instead of going back down the road the way the wagon went."

As they rode on they talked of many things, and Billy told something of the building of the dam, and the trouble his uncle had experienced from the men who claimed to own Golden Peak, and the approach to it.

The way led through patches of purple sage, and over short buffalo grass. Now and then they would pass herds of grazing cattle, or skirt some great field where big crops had been raised, or would soon be sprouting up again.

"What's that?" suddenly asked Frank, as something darted from beneath the feet of his horse, and scurried off in the grass.

"Jack rabbit," answered Billy, with a grin. "Some day we'll come on a hunt for 'em. It's lots of fun."

"Gosh! I thought it was something big," said Andy.

"They are pretty big—for rabbits," explained the ranch lad. "And you ought to see 'em run!"

They could see, by the waving grass, the course taken by the animal, and a little later they had a glimpse of him sitting on a hummock and staring at them with his long ears held up like signal flags.

"If I had a gun," began Andy, "I'd take a——"

He did not finish the sentence, for the next moment he went flying over the head of his horse, which went down in a heap. Andy sat down rather suddenly, a curious expression on his face.

"Wha—what happened?" he asked in a daze, while his mount, after scrambling to his feet, and trotting off a short distance, came to a halt and began nibbling the grass. "Did someone hit me?"

"Your horse put his foot in the burrow of a prairie dog," explained Billy. "Are you hurt?" and in an instant he was off his horse, slipping the reins over Buffalo's head, as a sign that he was to stand still.

"No, only sort of shaken up," confessed Andy. "A prairie dog's burrow; eh? What's it like?"

"Just a hole in the ground—that's all," said Billy. "I meant to tell you about them, but you can't see 'em, anyhow, until you're right on top of 'em, and then it's generally too late. Lucky you're not hurt. Can you ride?"

"Sure I can, if my horse doesn't bolt," and Andy got to his feet. He had fallen in a thick bunch of grass that acted as a mat, and, beyond a shaking up, was not hurt.

"Oh, Max won't run," said Billy, and he proved it by walking up and catching the steed. Soon the trio of lads were riding on again.

"Well, you didn't get the rabbit after all," remarked Frank, with a smile at his brother.

"No, and it was his fault that I stumbled," complained the younger Racer. "I'm going to watch for prairie dogs' holes after this."

"You won't often see 'em, unless you get on a barren place," spoke Billy. "But let's see if we can hit up the pace any. We don't want to be out after dark."

He spoke to Buffalo, who increased his speed, the other horses doing the same thing. In a little while the rancher's nephew said:

"There it is!"

"What?" asked Andy.

"The dam. See those two low hills over there?" and Billy pointed to them. "It's between those hills, and the river is right there."

"Oh, yes," answered Frank. "And what's that break in the middle of the concrete work?"

"That's the strip of land that's in dispute. If Uncle Richfield could build over that the dam would be done. It would only take a short time, too, as all the material is on the ground. But the dispute will have to be settled first."

"And where is Golden Peak?" asked Andy.

"That other hill which you see just beyond the two bigger ones," explained Billy. "When the dam is completed and the river backs up, Golden Peak will be under water."

"And the treasure with it," added Frank grimly.

"Yes, if there's any treasure there," assented the ranch lad, with a laugh.

"We'll have to see if there is any," suggested Andy.

"I don't know," and Billy shook his head. "It may be risky business, especially if those fellows and my uncle have a clash now. But if you fellows are game, I am."

They soon came to the river which the ranch owner proposed damming. It was not a large stream, but once held in bounds would produce a good supply of water for irrigation purposes. The two hills, between which the stream flowed, formed a sort of gateway. All that was necessary to do was to connect them with a concrete wall, and the river would be dammed. But, as Billy pointed out, there was, right in the central space, a strip of land of which the ranchman could not get control. And this land formed the right of way to Golden Peak.

Golden Peak was situated in what would be about the middle of the lake when the dam was completed and the waters backed up. And it would be entirely submerged. But until the strip in dispute could be acquired, and the dam completed, nothing more could be done. The work was at a standstill.

And, as the Racer boys already knew, it was hard to get a title to this land—that is, a title that would stand in the courts. In fact, if Mr. Thornton lost possession of the paper which Billy had brought from the East with him, the enemies of the rancher might even claim another parcel of land, and might be bold enough to tear down part of the concrete work already built.

As they came nearer to the dam the boys could see how well-made it was, and what a big piece of engineering it was to stop the flow of even a small river.

"Say, this is immense!" exclaimed Frank.

"I should say so," agreed Andy.

"There'll be a dandy lake here when the dam is completed, all right," said Billy.

"Won't it take a long time for the river to back up and fill all that valley?" asked the elder Racer lad.

"Oh, not so very long. If we get some good heavy rain, such as we sometimes have, or a cloudburst, it would almost fill up over night, providing the outlet gates were all closed."

The boys went nearer the dam to inspect it. The workmen had left, for there was nothing for them to do as long as the dam could not be completed. The land in dispute, which led to Golden Peak, was only about ten feet wide at the dam—a mere road, though it widened out as it approached the third hill.

There were several sluice-ways leading from the dam, with controlling gates, so that the water could be sent in many directions and to a number of ranches, as well as to almost every part of Mr. Thornton's land.

While the boys were looking at the irrigation works, they heard someone approaching from the inner side of the dam, and presently a voice hailed them.

"Oh, it's Uncle Richfield," said Billy, as he saw his relative approaching on his horse. "Did you see anything of them?" he asked.

"Not a sign, though someone has been here lately in a wagon with thin tires, and that isn't the kind the construction men used. I shouldn't wonder but what those fellows you saw have been here."

"But where did they go?" asked Billy.

"I don't know. They must have moved off back there, though it's hard going for a wagon," and he waved his hand toward the region where the river had its rise, a stretch of scrub trees and low foothills.

"Did they do anything?" Frank wanted to know.

"No, nothing seems to have been disturbed. I guess it was a false alarm. We'll get back home. It looks as if it might rain. I suppose I ought to have a watchman here, but nothing short of dynamite could harm the dam now, and I don't believe they'd venture on that," concluded the ranchman.

He showed his nephew and the Racer boys how he proposed to use the water when it was imprisoned by the dam, and after a tour of the place, and a look at Golden Peak from a distance, the party started back.

"We'll have to go at that hill soon," said Andy, in a low voice to his brother, as they rode back across the prairie.

"That's what," agreed Frank.

But for two weeks after that they were so occupied with having a good time that they hardly thought of their plan to see of what the "treasure" might consist.

Their chief business was in learning to ride as Billy did—making himself almost a part of his horse. This took time, but the Racer boys were apt pupils. Then came lessons in throwing the lasso, and, though it took longer to acquire this knack, they managed to become fairly adept at it.

They went on hunting trips, helped round up the cattle, watched the men at their crop work, and took long rides across the big stretches of prairie that always seemed to have something new to disclose.

"Oh, it's a great country!" exclaimed Frank, as they came back one evening from a long gallop—on faster steeds than Max and Major.

"It sure is," agreed his brother.

"What do you say to a try for Golden Peak to-morrow?" suggested Billy. "There's nothing special to do, and if it's good weather we can take our dinner and stay there all day."

"Just the cheese!" declared Frank, and Andy nodded enthusiastically.

The day proved all that could be desired, and early in the morning saw the three chums galloping across the prairie, headed for the big unfinished dam, and the hill known as Golden Peak.

The ride was without incident, save that they startled any number of jack rabbits, which they did not fire at, as the flesh was not considered prime at that time of year.

As they approached the dam, Frank, who was slightly in the lead, called out:

"Is your uncle over here, Billy?"

"Why, no, I don't think so. He didn't say anything about coming. In fact I know he isn't, for I remember, now, he went into town. But why do you ask?"

"Because there is someone moving around the dam," went on Frank. "I can see one, two, why there's half a dozen men there, Billy!"

"There are?" and the ranch lad galloped up beside his chum. Quickly taking a pair of field glasses from the case at his side, he focused them on the concrete wall.

"That's right," he said, in a low voice. "I wonder what this means? I don't like it, I wish Uncle Richfield was here."

He called to his horse, and increased the animal's speed, and Frank and Andy did likewise. A few minutes later, as the boys galloped across the stretch of land that was in dispute, a man suddenly arose from where he had been sitting on a stone in the deep grass.

"Hold on there!" he exclaimed, and he reached for his gun, which was standing near him. "I wouldn't come any farther if I were you. It might not be just altogether healthy."

"Why—why, what do you mean?" asked Billy, "This is my uncle's land!"

"Oh, is it? Well, I guess not—not here, anyhow!" the fellow jeered. "Now you clear out if you don't want to get hurt!" and he started menacingly toward the lads.

---

THE BLACK CLOUD

Billy Chase wheeled his horse to bring the animal head on toward the fellow who had warned them away. The man halted, and seemed to be considering matters.

"Well, are you going to leave?" he snarled, as he saw that his orders were not likely to be obeyed.

"I don't see why we should," replied Billy, coolly. "We came out here to look at my uncle's property, and——"

"Yes, but you're not on your uncle's land now!" fired back the man. "This strip is owned by me and my friends, and it will be many a day before Mr. Richfield Thornton gets control of it. Now you vamoose!"

"Hold on!" suddenly called Billy, as he saw that the man was bringing his gun to bear.

"Hold on for what?" growled the man.

"Don't get rash—that's all," suggested Billy, still calmly.

"No, that gun might go off," added Frank, taking a hint from the cool conduct of his chum.

"And it might hurt somebody," added Andy.

"Why—why—what do you mean?" snarled the man. "I tell you to get off this land! Your uncle don't own it and he never will, if I have my way. You haven't any right here, and in a little while this will be fenced off so no one can come on. Now you leave in a hurry."

The boys looked at each other. Clearly they were "up against it," as Andy said afterward. They knew that the land was in dispute and, though they felt sure that Mr. Thornton had a good claim to it, they realized that, for the time being, possession was nine points of the law.

"Supposing we don't go?" asked Billy, and Frank understood that his chum was seeking to gain time, though for what reason he could not fathom.

"If you don't you may get hurt," was the menacing answer. "My friends won't stand for any nonsense."

"And how do you know just where my uncle's land ends, and what you claim is yours begins?" went on Billy, and now the two Racer boys understood their chum's reason for questioning the man. He hoped to catch sight of the others who were with him. He wanted to see if he could recognize any of them.

"How do I know?" asked the man with the gun. "Because it's all been staked out; see?" and he pointed to a row of wooden pegs that marked off a ten foot strip which led in through the open place in the dam.

"So that's who those fellows were that followed us the day we got here," said Billy, in a low voice. "Surveyors—and they did their work in a hurry, marked out the strip in dispute, and went back to town by a different route."

"I guess that's right," agreed Frank.

"Well, are you going to vamoose?" asked the man, coming a pace nearer.

"I suppose we'll have to," agreed Billy. "But I want to tell you that you fellows are making a big mistake. My uncle has a valid claim to this land, and he'll enforce it, too. Then it will be you who'll have to get out—not us."

"All right. When the time comes—if it ever does—we'll slide," sneered the man.

"What's the trouble?" inquired a voice, and turning, the boys saw a tall man, with a handsome, if evil face, leering at them.

"Oh, these kids think they can go where they like," said the man with the gun. "I've warned 'em away, but they won't go."

"They won't; eh?" snapped the newcomer, who bestrode a big black horse. "Well, I'll see about that."

"Oh, we're going, Rick Morton," said Billy, calmly. "We just rode out here to see what was going on, and now we're going back. I'll tell my uncle."

"Yes, and you can tell him if he comes out here I'll serve him as he once served me!" snapped the big man.

"Oh, I suppose you mean horsewhipping," spoke Billy. "Well, I wouldn't advise you to try it!"

"Now you march!" fairly yelled the big man, to whom the remembrance of the horsewhipping did not seem pleasant.

"Come on, Buffalo," called Billy, to his horse. "I guess they don't want us here."

"And we never will," added the man with the gun. "You can't dam up this river, and flood our property. The courts'll stop you, or, if they don't, we will ourselves. This dam will be torn down in another month."

"I don't believe so," answered Billy. "Come on, boys," and he motioned with his head to Frank and Andy.

"Can't we do anything?" asked the younger Racer lad, who did not like to thus easily give in.

"I say let's go around some other way," suggested Frank, who felt much of the same spirit.

"It's no use," counselled Billy. "They've got the upper hand now. But our time will come."

"Why, there's only two of 'em," said Frank. "I guess we could manage 'em if it came to a fight."

"No, it wouldn't be wise," said Billy. "Besides, look over there," and as they came opposite the opening in the dam where they could see through to Golden Peak, they beheld a number of men on horses riding about. "There are too many for us. They must have something big under way. The best thing to do is to hurry back and tell my uncle. He may be able to get ahead of 'em yet."

"And to think that we were almost there and had to turn back," said Frank.

"We might have found the treasure," added Andy. "I wonder what those fellows think it is, anyhow?"

"Oh it must be a deposit of gold ore; at least, that is the rumor," said Billy. "You see this section of the country is not far from Colorado, and you know there is gold there. Maybe in the ancient geological times, before this world was quite made, some gold ore got into this mountain. I know it's been called Golden Peak for a good many years. The Indians used to have that same name for it. But no one that I ever heard of, except that man who went crazy, ever got any gold out of it, though lots of prospectors have had a try for it.

"Now these fellows imagine there's a fortune in it and they don't want my uncle to put it under water in his irrigation lake. But it's all bosh!"

"It looks as if there'd be a fight over it," suggested Frank.

"Yes, and it's too bad," went on Billy. "We need the water for the ranch, and so do the others who are depending on it. Yet, as long as this dispute keeps up, we can't do anything."

They rode away in rather moody silence, followed by the searching gaze of the two men on guard. Then the big man on the horse galloped back through the opening in the dam to join his companions, leaving the fellow with the gun near the rock.

"Is there any way we could get around and come to Golden Peak from the back?" asked Andy.

"Yes, it could be done, but it's a long ride," said Billy. "Maybe we'll take it, if these fellows stay here. But we'll see what my uncle says."

Much disappointed at the failure of their trip, the boys guided their horses out of the valley to the higher part of the prairie. They talked over what had happened, and Andy said he wished he had brought his gun along.

"If we'd been armed," he said, "they wouldn't have been so ready to order us off."

Billy shook his head.

"Firearms are bad business," he said. "This will be settled without powder, I guess. But it sure is mean to have every thing held up, when you know those fellows are in the wrong."

They rode on for several miles, and, when within a comparatively short distance of the ranch, Frank, looking up, asked:

"What sort of a cloud is that over there, Billy?"

The Western lad turned in his saddle, and at the first glimpse of the slate-colored mass, he cried:

"Ride! Ride for your lives, boys! That's a cyclone cloud as sure as you're a foot high! And it's headed right this way! Ride for all you're worth!"

---

---

THE INJURED MAN

Frank and Andy Racer did not need a second warning to urge their steeds to top speed. One look at the black and menacing cloud, now they knew what it portended, was enough for the lads. With Billy in the lead, they sped over the prairie, seeking to gain the shelter of the ranch houses ere the storm broke.

"She's a'coming!" yelled Billy, as he snapped his quirt to urge his horse to do even better. "She's going to be a hummer, too! It's a good thing we saw it in time."

"What'll it do?" asked Andy, galloping his animal alongside that of his Western chum.

"Tear things loose generally, if it hits anything," was the grim answer.

"Won't it be dangerous for the buildings at your home?" asked Frank, who had ranged up on the other side of his friend.

"It sure will—if it hits 'em. But that's the way with a cyclone. You never can tell just where it's aiming. It may pass off and not come near us at all. But from the looks of that cloud it seems to be headed right this way."

Billy turned in his saddle and looked back. The dark, low, funnel-shaped mass of vapor was undoubtedly nearer, and was coming on rapidly. The air had been quiet—too quiet in fact—and now the unnatural stillness was broken by a low, moaning sound, as if from some animal in pain. The horses started as they heard it, and quickened their pace.

"Steady, old boy, steady!" called Billy, soothingly, to his beast. "It isn't going to hurt you, old fellow."

The horse quieted down somewhat, but it was easy to see that he was alarmed. And his fear was conveyed to the horses ridden by Andy and Frank, for they cavorted about, and acted more like skittish young colts than staid cow ponies.

"Keep a firm rein," advised Billy. "Don't let 'em bolt with you or you might lose your seat, and it would be a hard job to catch 'em again with this storm coming up behind us. They'd bolt for the stable at top speed. Hold 'em in!"

"That's what," agreed Frank. It was rather curious to note how Billy took command of matters now, whereas, back East, and at the school, it had been the Racer boys who were in the van in every thing. But here they recognized that Billy knew more about what was best to be done than they did.

"Is it getting any nearer?" asked Frank, as he noted Billy looking over his shoulder again.

"I should say it was. This is going to be one of the worst storms we've had here. And we've had some ripping ones, too. Hark to that wind!"

The moaning sound had now risen to a scream, as if the wounded animal was wild with rage, and about to break loose.

"What does it do, blow straight ahead and lift things off the ground?" asked Andy.

"No, it goes more in a circle," answered the ranch lad. "That's how it gets its name-cyclone—cycle—circle, you know."

"Of course, I might have remembered," agreed Andy.

"But what does it do?" asked Frank, who had never seen the effects of one of these curious wind storms.

"Oh, it pulls things up by the roots when it gets a chance," answered Billy. "It just seems to twist everything off—a sort of corkscrew motion you know. I've seen whole houses twisted right around and set down some distance from where they stood, just facing the other way. That's the reason we build everything low, hoping the wind will pass over it."

"Does it rain?" inquired Andy.

"Sometimes. I think we're going to get some now. See if you can get any more speed out of those nags. We're almost at the ranch and we may make it in time."

Frank and Andy called to their ponies, and, as Buffalo was able to make a little better time under Billy's urging, the other two animals forced themselves to do likewise, for they did not want to be left behind.

"Won't it be more dangerous in a building than out in the open?" asked Frank, when they had ridden on about a mile, and had a glimpse of the ranch in the distance. "If the house is going to be lifted up and twisted around——"

"Oh, we can go in the cyclone cellar," said Billy, almost yelling to be heard above the noise of the wind. "We've got a sort of underground cave where we sometimes take refuge if it gets blowing too bad. A cyclone has no effect on that."

The wind, which had been blowing in fitful puffs, now swooped down on the three lads with terrific force. They could feel the tremendous pressure of it, and in a few minutes they saw little clouds of dust caught up from the dry fields and whirled about in funnel-shaped masses.

"Whirlwinds!" yelled Andy.

"Little cyclones," shouted Billy. "It's coming here all right!"

The roaring and screaming of the wind now became louder, and, looking back, the lads saw the black cloud fairly rushing down on them.

"Use your quirts!" called Billy, swinging the short whip about his head, and bringing it down lightly on his horse. "Make 'em know they've got to make better time."

The horses, up to now, had not felt the lash, but even in the stress of speed the lads were merciful, and only swung the lashes lightly. But it was enough, along with the howling of the wind, and the curious hue of the atmosphere, for it had turned yellow, from the effect of so much dust in the air.

Leaping forward, the frightened horses carried their riders in advance of the storm. There came a few drops of rain, and, just as the gale burst in all its fury, the three raced into the ranch yard.

"Quick!" yelled Archie, who was on the lookout for them. "Into the cellar. It's going to be a screamer! I'll look after the horses!"

The steeds were trembling with fright as Archie fairly shoved them into the low stable, built of heavy logs capable of withstanding a fierce blow.

"Come on!" yelled Billy, as he led the way, through darkness almost as black as night now. The yellow glow had faded and the ink-hued cloud seemed to envelope everything. The rain was coming down in torrents, and Frank and Andy noticed that the wind had a circular motion, marking the true cyclone.

"Here we are!" yelled the ranch boy, and grabbing hold of Frank and Andy, he pushed them through the entrance to what looked like an old fashioned root-cellar, or dugout. It was a shelter partly under ground and partly raised, with sod and earth built over a wooden roof.

"My, boys! We were getting worried about you!" exclaimed a voice, and Frank, clearing his eyes from the dust that had blown into them, saw by a light of a lantern in the cyclone cellar that Mr. Thornton, his wife, and a number of the hands of the ranch had gathered in the place.

"Oh, we're all right," answered Billy confidently.

"This terrible storm!" cried Mrs. Thornton. "We were so worried about you, Billy! Where were you when it came up?"

"On our way home. But say, Uncle Richfield, I've got great news for you."

Before he could tell what it was there came a terrific crash, that sounded above the roar of the cyclone. Involuntarily everyone crouched low, though there could be no danger to them in the underground place.

"Oh, what was that?" cried Mrs. Thornton, clinging to her husband.

"I don't know," he answered, steadily. "But I hope it wasn't the house. See if you can get a glimpse of it, Matt."

The foreman tried to open the door of the cellar, but something had evidently blown against it. Tug as he would, it did not budge.

The gale was now howling so that ordinary talk in the improvised cave could scarcely be heard, and Sing Lee, the Celestial cook, was howling his Chinese prayers at the top of his voice.

"Be quiet!" ordered Mr. Thornton, for the shrill tones of the Chinese were getting on Mrs. Thornton's nerves. "This will blow over in a minute more."

Hardly had he spoken, when there came a perceptible lull in the storm. The howling of the wind died down as does the whine of an electric fan when the current is shut off. In about two minutes there could be heard only the patter of the rain on the ground, and, a little later, this ceased. In all, the actual blow had not lasted five minutes.

"Well, see if you can get that door open now, Matt," ordered the ranchman. Once more the foreman tried, and with the help of one of the hands he managed to push the portal partly open.

"There's a beam wedged against it," he reported, but by shoving out his foot he managed to kick it away, and the door swung wide.

A flood of light streamed in, making the lantern grow pale and sickly. The dark cloud had passed, and the sun was out. It was a most wonderful transformation.

"Are—are there any of our buildings standing?" gasped Mrs. Thornton. "I'm almost afraid to look."

"Sure, they're all right," answered her husband, with a reassuring laugh. "I guess we only got the edge of the storm at that. The roof's off one of the pony sheds, but that's all. It was part of that which blew against the door. All hands out to take stock of damage," he ordered.

They hurried from the cyclone cellar. The storm had passed, doing comparatively little damage, and, as Mr. Thornton had said, probably one edge only had hit the ranch.

"Whew! That was a hot one!" cried Andy, as he looked off in the distance and saw the funnel-shaped cloud tearing away to do more damage elsewhere.

"I should say so," agreed Frank. Billy said nothing. He was looking at a dark object huddled on the ground, not far from the entrance to the cyclone cellar. The ranch boy advanced toward it.

"What's that?" called his uncle sharply, as he, too, saw it. "A dog?"

"No, it's—why, it's a man!" cried Billy, as he stooped over the figure. "It's a man, and he's hurt!"

Then, as Frank and Andy ran to join their chum, they uttered cries of astonishment.

"Look! Look who it is!" said Frank.

"It isn't he! It can't be possible!" added Andy.

"But it is, by all that's wonderful!" ejaculated Billy. "How in the world did he get here, and how was he hurt?"

"Something hit him on the head, evidently," said Frank.

"Who is it? What's the matter?" cried Mr. Thornton, running up. "Who is it, boys?"

"Sam Shackmiller, the man who tried to get that paper away from me!" answered Billy.

---

THE MISSING PAPER

"Impossible!" cried Mr. Thornton, as he reached the group of lads standing near the wounded man. "How could he be here when you said he was hurt in the railroad accident and was in the hospital? It can't be, boys."

"And yet there he is," said Billy, passing his hand over his forehead as if to ascertain whether or not he was awake. "I leave it to Frank and Andy."

"It surely is he," asserted the elder Racer lad. "But when we saw him last he had shaved off his black beard."

"And it's had time to grow in the meanwhile," said Andy.

"Yes," went on Billy, "and I suppose he's had time to recover from his injuries and leave the hospital, though it did not seem possible."

"Well, whether it's he or not, and, even though he tried to rob you, Billy, I guess it's up to us to look after him, now that he's hurt," said Mr. Thornton. "Lucky we've got some place to carry him to, for the storm didn't do much damage after all. Take him into the house, boys, and we'll see what ails him, and send for a doctor."

The man was unconscious, and it was easy to guess what had happened to him. Near him, lying on the ground, was a billet of wood, evidently part of the roof of the shed that had blown off. This had struck the man on the head, making a long gash, though Billy, looking at it as well as he could, gave it as his opinion that it was only a scalp wound.

As the three boys carried the limp form into the house, whither Mrs. Thornton had preceded them, they could not help being more and more sure in their minds that the man was Shackmiller. Every feature was there, but the beard was as fully grown as if it had never been shaved off. The clothing too, was such as the man had worn when hurt in the train wreck.

"Put him on the couch," said Mrs. Thornton, as the injured one was carried into the living room. "Then we'll bathe his head. I guess you'd better telephone for the doctor, anyhow, Richfield. We may need him."

"I will if the wires aren't down," replied the ranchman; "but I hardly expect that they stood that blow." They had not, as was proved when he tried to get Central, for his ranch, as well as that of several of his neighbors, was connected with the town by a telephone.

"One of the men will have to ride in," he said, as he hung up the useless receiver. "Archie, I guess you'd better go. Tell the Doc. to come right out if he can. I don't want to be mean, or inhospitable, but I don't want this fellow at my place any longer than I can help. I don't like his kind, especially after what he's tried to do to me, and the sooner he can be moved the better I'll like it. So go get the medicine man, Archie. And tell Matt to see what he can do toward rigging a temporary roof on the shed. Now that we've had one cyclone there oughtn't to be any more right away."

"Anything we can do?" asked Frank, anxious to help.

"No, I guess not, except you boys might stay around here, and if Shackmiller comes to, sort of be on the watch. He may get delirious. I've got to see to things outside."

By this time Mrs. Thornton, who was a good nurse, had bathed the injured man's head and bound it up. He was breathing heavily, and was still unconscious. Then, as household matters needed her attention, she went out, leaving the three boys in charge.

"Well, say, things are certainly happening with a rush," remarked Frank, as he looked at the figure on the couch.

"They generally do, once they start with us," commented Andy. "It's been this way ever since I can remember."

"Then I'm glad you came out here," spoke Billy. "Not that I want cyclones, and the appearance of our enemies, to happen every day of the week, but I like some excitement. I'm glad I tied up to you fellows."

"Hush! He's coming to!" suddenly exclaimed Frank, as he saw the man's eyes open.

As the boys watched they saw a look of returning consciousness come to the man's features. He gazed about wonderingly, glanced at the three lads, and then around at the room where he lay. In the minds of Frank, Andy and Billy several questions came at once.

How had Shackmiller managed to get from the distant hospital to the ranch? What was he doing so near it in the storm? How had he come to be hurt?

"Where—where am I?" asked the man, feebly.

"You don't need to ask that; do you?" Billy inquired.

"Why, yes—of course," and the voice was stronger. "I know I was near some ranch when the storm came up, and then it all got dark. I was going to ask for shelter when something hit me on the head, and that's the last I know."

"But you know me; don't you?" asked Billy. "And you know my chums, the Racer boys. You saw us at the wreck, when the boiler exploded. You know me all right, Sam Shackmiller!"

"Shackmiller!" fairly cried the man, as he struggled to a sitting position. "Then you know me! But I don't know you. The Racer boys? I never heard of them. And you—you——"

"I'm Billy Chase—from whom you tried to get the land paper," said the ranch lad. "Only you didn't. But how does it come that you're out of the hospital, Sam Shackmiller?"

"Sam Shackmiller—I'm not Sam Shackmiller!" cried the man.

"Oh, come!" exclaimed Billy. "That's too thin. Why, we know you as well as you know us, even if you have grown your beard again. Come, if you're not Sam Shackmiller, who are you?"

"I am Bruce Shackmiller, Sam's twin brother," was the quick answer, and the boys gasped in astonishment.

"Bruce Shackmiller!" cried Billy.

"His twin brother!" added Frank.

"Yes," went on the man, "and if you know anything about him, for pity's sake tell me. I have been looking all over for him, ever since he went East. He wrote me that he was coming out West again, and then I lost trace of him. I was on my way to Sageville, to go and hunt him up, for he has friends there, when this storm overtook me. Oh, if you can tell me anything about him I wish you would!"

The boys were too astonished to speak, at first. In fact, they doubted that the man spoke the truth, and, seeing this on their faces, he went on:

"I can easily prove that I am not Sam. He was lame, wasn't he?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Billy, eagerly.

"Well, I am not. See!" and, in spite of his weakness, the man walked across the floor with never the semblance of a limp. "Sam and I are twins," he went on, "and we are so near alike, except that he is lame, that few can tell us apart. And yet there are several points where we do not resemble each other. His eyes are blue, and mine are brown."

"That's right," said the puzzled Billy, after a look. "But I surely took you for Sam."

"Nearly everyone does. Oh, but what has become of him?"

Thereupon the ranch lad related briefly about the train accident, and how Sam had tried in vain to get the valuable paper.

"That is what I have feared all along," said Bruce Shackmiller, gloomily. "I was afraid Sam had gotten in with bad companions. And so he and they are trying to defeat your uncle's irrigation project; eh?"

"That's about the size of it," replied Billy. "Your brother followed me about at school, trying to get that valuable paper. But I was too much for him, and now my uncle has it safe."

"Oh, your uncle has it?" asked the wounded man, quickly.

"He sure has!" exclaimed Billy, answering in spite of the sudden nudge Frank gave him. Then the ranch boy looked at his chum, who frowned, and Billy understood. He wished he had not been so quick to reply. But it was too late now. However, there could be no danger, he thought.

"Sam always was a little wild," went on the injured man. "He got in with some fast companions, and, though I did my best to reform him, it was useless. I think he was always a little bitter against the world because of his lameness, which afflicted him from the time he was a little boy. He was never like other lads, and, as he grew older, he became morose and vindictive. But I hoped he had reformed. Of late I lost track of him, but recently I had a telegram from him, saying he was ill, and was coming back West."

"That was the one sent from the hospital I guess," said Billy. "But what about yourself? How do you feel now?"

"Oh, much better. The blow made me unconscious for a time but I'm all right now. I must go on, and see if I can find my brother."

"You had better wait until the doctor sees you," suggested Frank. "He'll be here soon, now."

Mr. Thornton came in then, to see how the sufferer was getting along, and his surprise may well be imagined when he heard the story.

"Well, I'm glad you're not the man who has been trying, with others of his gang, to make trouble for me," said the ranchman; "though if you had been we'd have done what was right by you. I wish you'd use your influence with your brother to have him drop this business. I'm willing to pay what's right for that land, though I have a valid claim to it. He'll lose out in the end, and the sooner he gives in the better for all of us."

"I'll tell him," said Bruce Shackmiller. "I'm sure that after he has suffered so much, and uselessly, he will give up. I will seek him out as soon as I can."

"Better rest up here for a day or so," suggested the owner of the Double X ranch. "The doctor will be here soon. He has an auto, and it doesn't take him long to get out from town."

The physician arrived shortly after that, bringing Matt, the foreman, with him, the latter having left his horse in town.

"Great blow we had," commented the doctor, as he came in to look at his patient. "Half a dozen of the skyscrapers in Sageville unroofed. Well, now, let's see what we have here."

He made a rapid examination, and said that the wound was only a scalp affair, which would soon heal if no complications set in. He dressed and bandaged it, and prepared to take his departure.

"Now we'll make you as comfortable as we can," said the ranch owner, to Shackmiller. "Stay a week if you like. On the whole it may be a good thing that we met you, for it may end all this trouble."

"I hope it doesn't do us out of a chance to get the treasure of Golden Peak," said Frank, softly.

"Oh, we'll have a try for that, anyhow," spoke Billy, and as he turned aside, Frank thought he detected a strange gleam in the eyes of Bruce Shackmiller.

"I'll do my best to influence Sam," said the man in a low voice, and then he was taken to a room that had been prepared for him.

"He'll be all right in a day or so," the doctor said, on leaving. "All he needs is rest and quietness. That blow must have been a glancing one."

"Oh, by the way, Billy," said Mr. Thornton, at supper a little later; "what was it you started to tell me when that cyclone crash came?"

"Great news, Uncle Richfield," replied the ranch lad. "Some of Shackmiller's crowd are on guard at Golden Peak, and they ordered us off when we went there to-day."

"They did!" cried the ranch owner. "I've got to look into that. It may mean a big change in the situation. I've got to get busy. I must beat these fellows at their game, or it will spoil everything."

The ranchman sat up late that night, going over various documents in his room. The boys, after talking over the events of the day, had gone to bed, rather tired. The effects of the big storm had fully passed away.

"Well, what shall we do to-day?" asked Frank of Billy, as they got up the next morning.

"Have another try for Golden Peak, I vote," came from Andy. "Maybe we can get the best of those fellows."

"Not so soon after we've been there once," was the opinion of the Western youth. "Give 'em time to forget about us, and we'll have a better chance. But we can go hunting to-day if you like. One of the men said he saw a lot of jack rabbits over on the far range the other day. And maybe we might meet a stray wolf or so. It's always good work to pot them, as they pull down a calf occasionally."

"Fine!" cried Frank. "We'll do it!"

"Hello, there's your uncle," said Andy, looking out of the window, and seeing Mr. Thornton dressed for a trip to town. "He's off early."

"Yes, I guess he's got a lot of business to attend to on account of the new move those fellows made," ventured Billy.

The next moment his uncle called to him:

"Billy, I say Billy! Did you take back that paper you brought from the Eastern lawyer—the title deed to the land in dispute?"

"No, Uncle Richfield. I haven't seen it since I gave it to you. Why?"

"Because it's gone!"

"Gone?"

"Yes. I had it last night, looking it over together with some other documents, and I put them all in my desk, intending to take them into town this morning. Now the most valuable document of the lot is missing!"

"Missing!" cried Billy. "How can that be? Has anyone——"

At that moment the Chinese cook appeared in the yard with a bowl of steaming coffee. Addressing Mr. Thornton he said:

"Him no can do."

"No can do what?" snapped the ranchman, not altogether pleased to be annoyed by household matters at such an important time.

"No can dlink coffee."

"Who can't? What are you talking about, Sing Lee?"

"Man no can dlink. Man what hab chopee-chopee on head—he no can dlink. Him gone—vamoose!"

"What?" cried the ranchman, a sudden suspicion coming into his mind.

"Him no can do. Him gone," blandly repeated the Celestial. "Mlissie Thornton send me him for coffee to dlink—I go—he no there. He no can do!"

"By Jove!" cried the ranchman. "That explains it! Boys, that twin brother is a sham! He's skipped with my papers! We've got to get right after him!"

---

THE CHASE

Instantly all was excitement at Double X ranch. The word quickly went round of what had happened, and a number of cowboys, and men that worked on the farm part of the land, gathered at the stables, anxious to mount their horses and begin the chase.

"That paper stolen!" cried Billy. "That undoes all the work I accomplished in the East. Oh, if I could only lay hands on that slick twin brother of Sam Shackmiller!"

"Do you think he told the truth when he said he was a twin brother?" asked Andy.

"I don't know," replied the ranch boy. "But he surely looked enough like him to be Sam himself. Only the limp was different."

"He wasn't much different from him in character," declared Frank, "not if he stole that paper."

"And he did steal it as sure as guns!" exclaimed Billy. "We never should have trusted him. He was too slick for us."

"But his story sounded reasonable," put in Andy.

"Yes, so it did. Well, let's go down and talk to Uncle Richfield about it. I hope he'll let us join in the chase."

"So do I," chorused the Racer boys.

They found Mr. Thornton busily engaged in going over the papers in his desk, hoping against hope that he might have overlooked the most valuable one. But it was not there.

"What time did he skip out?" asked Billy. "When did you miss him—I mean Shackmiller?"

"Just now, when Sing Lee went to give him some coffee your aunt sent in to him," replied the ranchman. "He must have been waiting for just this opportunity. Maybe he was on his way to the ranch to do this very thing when the storm overtook him. Oh, why wasn't I more suspicious?"

"Do you think you can catch him?" asked Frank.

"I hope so. We're going to make a big try, anyhow. Do you boys want to come along?"

"Do we?" chorused the three, and that was answer enough.

"Now you will be careful; won't you?" pleaded Billy's aunt.

"Of course," he promised. "Let's have breakfast in a jiffy, and get on the trail. Have you any idea what time he left, Uncle?"

"It must have been after midnight, for I sat up until nearly twelve going over my papers."

They made some inquiries, but no one had seen or heard anything of the missing man after he went to his room. Nor had there been any suspicious sounds during the night. Shackmiller, if that really was his name, had slipped out quietly, secured the valuable paper, and made off with it. At least that was the way all signs pointed.

There was nothing in his room that would lead to any clue. His bed had been slept in—or at least the man had stretched out on it—for the clothes were tumbled. None of the locks on the outer doors were forced, showing that the man had either escaped by a window, or had used a false key, since the ones that locked the doors were always taken in charge by Mrs. Thornton each night.

"Then he's got at least six hours start of us," said Billy, as he and the Racer boys ate a hurried breakfast. "It's going to be hard to capture him."

"Oh, I don't know," said his uncle, thoughtfully. "He didn't have a horse."

"How do you know?" his wife inquired.

"Because none of ours is missing, and he had no horse when he came here."

"Then if he's afoot it ought to be easy to run him down," declared Andy.

"If we can pick up his trail," spoke Mr. Thornton. "Well, boys, are you ready?"

"We sure are!" exclaimed Frank. He and his brother would have gone without breakfast for the sake of taking part in the chase.

The cowboys and others had been saddling their horses, looking to girths, lariats and stirrups, and to their guns.

"I'd like to get a chance to rope the fellow!" exclaimed Archie, vindictively. "He won't get away once I get my rope on him," and he swung the lariat around his head.

"Scatter, boys, and look for signs," commanded the owner of Double X ranch. "He may have headed for town, or he may be going to cross the line and get into Colorado. If he gets among the mountains we might as well give up."

The men, experienced at reading signs on the ground where a tenderfoot could see nothing, were soon looking to pick up the trail of the missing man. They scattered about, and, because of the fact of the rain, it was easier than otherwise to notice marks in the soil.

Suddenly a cry from Matt Boyle called the others to him.

"What is it?" asked Mr. Thornton.

"Here's where a strange pony has been tethered," was the answer. "See, those shoes are none of ours," and he pointed to the hoof-marks in the soft ground.

"That's right," admitted Mr. Thornton. "And here's where a man has come along and mounted him," he went on. "I see it now. That fellow rode up here, and picketed out his horse. Then the storm came and he was hurt. He thought he saw a chance to get that paper and he took it. He waited until we were all asleep and took it out of my desk. Then he sneaked out, got his horse, and rode off."

"That's it!" cried Billy.

"On the trail, boys!" shouted the ranchman. "I'll give a hundred dollars to the one who first sights that fellow!"

"Whoop-ee!" yelled the cowboys, flinging their hats in the air. One or two fired off their big revolvers, and several swung their lariats. Then, amid shouts and yells, and with a clatter of hoofs, the cavalcade started off on the chase.

"We'll stick together!" called Billy, to his two chums.

"Oh! I hope we can get that fellow!" cried Frank.

"If we don't find him in this direction I know where we ought to look for him," said Andy, for the trail was leading toward town.

"Where?" asked Billy.

"At Golden Peak," replied the younger Racer lad. "I believe he'll head for there, to join the others of his gang."

"If he does," said Billy solemnly, "it's good-bye to Uncle Richfield's dam. Those fellows will have the upper hand!"

---

OFF TO GOLDEN PEAK

"Well, it's no use, boys, I guess we may as well go back."

"And give up the chase?"

It was Mr. Thornton who spoke first, and Billy who questioned him. They had been on the trail since early morning, seeking to find the man who had disappeared from their ranch at the same time as did the valuable document, and now, at sunset, they had come to a halt, unsuccessful.

All day they had followed the trail of the fugitive—or rather, they had tried to follow it—for they lost it a short time after leaving the ranch, and not even the most skilful of the plainsmen or cow punchers could pick it up again.

"Yes, Billy," resumed the ranchman, "that's the only thing to do, I guess. There's no use keeping on after a forlorn hope. We can't get that fellow to-night."

"Then you're not going to give up altogether; are you?" asked Frank.

"No, indeed, but I'll have to adopt other tactics now. They have forced my hand, so to speak, and I'll have to do something I have been contemplating for a long while, but which I hesitated to do because it might bring matters to a crisis. Now I shall have to go ahead whether I want to or not."

Mr. Thornton did not say what it was he intended to do, and as he seemed so thoughtful and dispirited after the unsuccessful chase, the boys forebore to ask him.

"We can hardly get back to Double X ranch to-night," observed Andy, as the men began to draw in from the big circle in which they had stretched out to try and pick up the trail.

"No, we won't try it," decided the ranchman. "We'll camp in the open. I rather thought something like this would happen, so I told Archie and Matt to bring along some grub. You boys have your blankets, haven't you?"

"Yes, we don't go far without 'em," answered Billy, and this was so, for strapped at the backs of the saddles were the means of making an improvised bed on the plains. Some of the cowboys had things to eat, while some carried materials for making coffee.

"We'll just camp here," decided Mr. Thornton, as they came to a place where a little stream afforded water for man and beast, and where the grass offered good grazing for the horses.

Saddles were thrown off, and after the steeds had been given a hasty rub-down with dried grass, the fire was made, and supper, such as it was, was soon under way.

The meal, not elaborate by a good deal, was much enjoyed by all, especially by the Racer boys, to whom this sort of life was quite novel.

Then, after supper, they sat about the fire, listening to the stories told by the cattlemen, or discussing the events of the day.

The night passed without incident, though Frank and Andy found it rather hard to drop off to sleep as easily as did the others. The movements of the tethered horses, the occasional call of an owl, the howl of a wolf, or the barking of a distant colony of prairie dogs, were all new and strange to the Easterners. Yet ere long they found themselves in dreamland.

"Well, there's only one thing to do," announced Mr. Thornton, at breakfast the next morning.

"What's that?" asked Billy.

"I'm going to finish that dam, and make the lake," the ranch owner said decidedly. "I'll beat those fellows at their own game. They have stolen my legal authority to proceed, but I'll go ahead and complete the dam, and fight it out in the courts anyhow. If possession is nine points of the law, then I'm going after those nine points. I'll flood the district and when they want what they claim is their property—but which isn't—they can look for it at the bottom of the lake. I'll finish the dam at once."

"And cover Golden Peak?" asked Billy.

His uncle laughed.

"What harm will it do?" he asked. "All that's there are some worthless yellow rocks, and those fellows are crazy to think there'll ever be a treasure found there. Yes, I'm going to flood it."

Billy and his chums looked at one another. There was the same thought in all their minds. They must go to Golden Peak before it was covered with water.

"I'm going on in to Sageville," continued Mr. Thornton, when the saddling-up had been completed. "You boys had better go on to the ranch with the others. Tell your aunt," he said to Billy, "that I'll be home as soon as I can. And also tell her what I'm going to do. I'm going to hire the biggest gang of men I can find, and put them to work on the concrete dam. We can fill in the gap in a week, and back up the water. Then I'd like to know where Shackmiller and his gang will be?"

He galloped off, and in due time the three boys and their escort of cowboys were at the ranch again. Mrs. Thornton was not a little surprised at the news they brought, and she had also been alarmed at their absence all night, but she had become somewhat used to the manner in which things were done in the breezy West.

The boys planned to go on a trip to Golden Peak the next day, but decided to go hunting instead, and, as Billy pointed out, they had over a week before the waters would rise and cover the hill.

Meanwhile Mr. Thornton carried out his plan. A big gang of men assembled at the dam, and soon began the work of finishing it. It was decided to build up the concrete work, and set the many water gates. Then, when the cement had set, all that would be necessary to do would be to close the gates against the river, the water would begin to back up, and the lake would form.

A search had been made for the missing man, but he had not been found. The men who had been on guard at Golden Peak had also disappeared, and the place was in possession of the forces of the ranch owner.

"I guess they're not going to trouble you," said Frank, one day.

"I'm not so sure of that," replied Billy's uncle. "This may be the calm before the storm. I'm always suspicious when such men lay low and do nothing. They're preparing for a big move, I have no doubt; but I'll be ready for them. They've got one advantage on their side, in possessing that paper, but I'll have the dam built and the lake over their property before they can act, I hope."

Men guarded the dam day and night. In fact the work went on at night, by means of the light of flaring gasoline torches.

The gap was nearly closed. The gates were all in place, and only a few more yards of concrete and rubble needed to be dumped in.

"If you fellows are going to get the treasure of Golden Peak you'd better get a move on," said Mr. Thornton, dryly, to Billy and his chums one night.

"Why?" they asked. They had been so busy having a good time, hunting and riding over the prairie, that they had almost forgotten about it.

"Because," answered the ranch owner. "I expect to close some of the gates to-morrow, and soon flood the region. Golden Peak will be out of sight in two days more."

"Then we'll explore it to-morrow!" cried Billy. "Hurray, boys! Off for Golden Peak and the treasure—if it's there!"

---

CAMPING OUT

"Have you got the grub?"

"What happened to that frying pan?"

"Who saw the coffee pot? I'm sure I had it a minute ago."

"Where are the tin cups?"

"Yes, and the knives and forks."

"I wonder if we've got plenty of matches."

"Is this tent going to be big enough?"

These were only a few of the questions, demands, exclamations and wonderings that came from the three lads, Frank, Andy and Billy, as they prepared to set off to explore Golden Peak.

It was a fine day—a better one could not have been desired—and the sun shone warm over the prairies, while in the distance, as the trio stood in the ranch yard, could be seen the twin hills between which flowed the river that was soon to be harnessed, and made to irrigate the vast farms.

Beyond the hills lay Golden Peak, showing yellow in the strong sun, and fully justifying its name. Surely it looked as if treasure were there, and if it was, the Racer boys and their chum were determined to find it. They had arranged to camp for several days on the mysterious hill, which many believed contained wealth in some form, but which others said only held worthless yellow rocks.

In the ranch yard some burros, well laden with the camp stuff, stood patiently about, while Billy, Frank and Andy looked to their saddle horses, tightened girths, and saw to it that they had all they needed for a stay of some time.

"Now boys," said Mr. Thornton, "I wouldn't waste too much time on this expedition. Don't be gone more than three days. Because I'll want to close the big gates and let the river rise, and I won't want to drown you out like rats in a hole. So don't stay too long," and the ranchman smiled broadly.

"Well, we counted on a week," spoke Frank.

"Well, then spend three days at Golden Peak, and the rest of the week camping somewhere else," suggested Mr. Thornton. "There are lots of good places around here, Billy knows 'em. Besides, it won't take you three days to find out that there is no treasure at Golden Peak," and he laughed.

"I don't know about that," returned Billy. "But we could finish our camping expedition somewhere else, I suppose. We'll do it, and when we send you word, Uncle Richfield, that we've vamoosed off the Peak, you can turn on the water."

"All right," agreed his uncle. "Now have you everything you need?"

"If they haven't they never will have," said Mrs. Thornton, with a laugh. "They've been up since before daylight getting their traps together. Now boys, you will be careful; won't you?" and she put the question for about the tenth time.

"Of course we will," said Billy, as he gave her a hug and kiss, for she had been almost like a mother to him.

"Yes, I think we have everything," said Frank, as he looked over the packs on the backs of the burros, and saw to the things he and his brother and chum were to carry. The Racer boys had gone camping many times, and, though the method of procedure might be somewhat different on the prairies, still the general rules to be observed were the same.

"Then good-bye and good luck to you," said the ranch owner. "Don't forget to let me know when you leave Golden Peak, as I'll then shut the big water gate and start the flood."

"We will," promised Billy. "Though we may stay there four days instead of three, in case we come across the treasure."

"In that case you may," laughed his uncle.

"Forward then!" cried Andy, as he leaped to the back of his horse. Or, rather he tried to leap to the saddle, but his movement was unexpected, and his steed a trifle frisky, so, as a matter of course, Andy missed his mark and came down on the ground rather heavily.

"If that's the way you're going to march I'm not with you!" exclaimed Billy, with a broad grin.

"Come here and I'll pick you up," invited Frank, from the saddle of his own mount.

"Huh! You fellows think it's funny," grumbled Andy, as he slowly arose. This time he was more careful, and successfully reached the leather. There was a chorus of good-byes, a shout of encouragement from a group of cowboys, who fired off their big revolvers, and a waving of Mrs. Thornton's apron in lieu of a handkerchief.

"Vely much nice boys!" called Sing Lee, his yellow face all smiles. "Goo' luck!" and he threw after them one of his queer shoes, filled with rice.

"Gosh!" exclaimed Andy. "He must think this is a wedding party instead of a treasure hunting expedition. But I hope the old custom holds good."

They rode off over the prairie under the summer sun, their hearts filled with hope, and with no thought of the dangers they were soon to face. Probably if they had had intimations of them it would had made no difference.

"We'll head for the dam first," said Billy, "and take a look at the work going on. Then I can arrange for one of the men to take back word for us when we leave Golden Peak, so uncle can turn on the water."

"I rather think I'd like to see that operation," said Frank.

"Oh, we can come down to it if we like," returned Billy. "That is, if we're not too busy getting out the treasure."

"I wonder what the treasure will be, anyhow?" spoke Andy. "I should think gold ore."

"Or maybe silver, or copper," suggested Frank. "You know we're not a great way from Colorado, and some of the rock strata of that State, where there is gold, and other minerals, may have outcropped in Golden Peak."

The boys talked of the possibility of this as they rode on. Now and then they would flush some partridges, or sage hens, but they did not shoot any, as they wanted to wait about getting game until they were in camp.

"Watch out for prairie dogs' burrows," warned Billy. "There are a lot of 'em around here." He spoke only just in time, for Frank managed to pull his steed aside from stepping in one, which might have given him a bad tumble.

They reached the dam, where scores of men were at work, and the foreman greeted them pleasantly. He readily agreed to send back word for them when they left Golden Peak.

"And if you find more gold than you need, just drop off a couple of bags here," he invited, with a laugh.

"He's just like the rest of 'em," complained Billy, as they rode on. "He doesn't believe in the treasure."

They saw that the dam was almost completed, and that a few more days' work would bring it to the point where the big gates could be closed and the river stopped from flowing, except as it was needed.

Already the stream was partly confined, flowing through several openings in the big concrete wall, and this made the current much swifter, also deepening the water. It had backed up some behind the dam.

"Another hour will bring us to Golden Peak," announced Billy, toward the close of the afternoon, when they had stopped for lunch and again taken the trail. "Then to get up the tent and camp out."

"It doesn't seem as if that hill was so far away," remarked Frank. "Why, to look at it from the ranch I'd say we could walk to it in a little while."

"That's because the air is so clear," explained Billy. "Distances look shorter than they are. It's a good way off yet, but we can make it before night."

The shadows were just beginning to lengthen when they reached the foot of the curious little mountain where they expected to remain several days, and which they hoped would contain a treasure trove.

"Make camp!" cried Billy, as he leaped from the saddle. His companions did likewise, bringing the burros to a halt. As they were about to unload the animals, looking the while for a good location for the tent, Andy, who had strayed off to one side, uttered an exclamation. At the same time there was a sound in the bushes as if somebody was forcing a way through them.

"What is it?" cried Frank.

"Someone's here!" replied Andy, and they could hear his rifle being brought up, ready for use.

---

THE CLOUDBURST

Billy sprang to where he had leaned his weapon against a tree, and his example was followed by Frank. Then, fully armed, they looked to where Andy was gazing at a spot in the underbrush.

"What is it?" called Billy, in a hoarse whisper.

"I can't see," was the answer, "but it was some large body, and it made off as soon as I came near."

"Be careful," advised the ranch lad, as he advanced nearer his chum.

"Why, what do you think it might be?" asked Frank. "A bear?"

"No bears around here," came in a whisper. "But it might be a wolf. We've been losing some cattle lately, and the beasts may have a den here."

The boys remained on the alert for several seconds, but they heard no further sounds.

"Guess it was a false alarm," spoke Andy, in a relieved voice. Frank did not answer, but, creeping cautiously forward, he bent low to the ground, and looked carefully for some tell-tale sign in the fast-disappearing light.

"See anything?" asked Frank.

"Yes," replied Billy. "I see some marks."

"Was it a wolf?"

"No—a man!" came the unexpected reply.

"A man?" chorused the Racer boys.

"Yes. Fellows, we're not alone on Golden Peak, and we've got to be on our guard," and Billy's voice was a trifle solemn.

"Who do you imagine it can be?" asked Frank. "Some of those same men who are making trouble for your uncle?"

"I shouldn't be surprised," said Billy, as he laid aside his gun. "They can't help but see the work going on at the dam, and they know what it means—the burying of Golden Peak under many feet of water. So they may be making a final effort to get at the treasure."

"And they may not like it that we are here," suggested Andy.

"Very likely not. But we've got as good a right as they have, and better," spoke the ranch boy. "We'll stick it out, and if they try any of their funny business we'll do the same."

"That's right!" exclaimed Frank, with a grim tightening of his lips. "We're with you from the word go."

"Well, as long as that's settled, suppose we see about grub?" suggested Andy, and his companions laughed at his practical idea. But, none the less, they were willing to conform to it, and soon the campfire was going, and the meal being cooked. Then the tent was put up, the horses picketed, and the boys drew lots to decide the order of standing watch. Frank's turn came first.

The night passed, however, without any alarm sounding, though each lad, in turn, was sure he heard suspicious noises, and with ready rifle stared off in the darkness. Nothing more, however, than the movement of some creature of the underbrush resulted.

"Who's going to get breakfast?" demanded Billy, some hours later, when the sun coming up over the prairies made the yellow rocks about them gleam.

"I got supper," came from Andy.

"Well, I got the water," asserted Frank.

"And I made the fire," laughed the ranch boy. "So as long as we all had a hand in that meal I guess we can do the same for breakfast."

Soon the eggs and bacon were sizzling in the frying pan over the fire, and the appetizing odor of coffee filled the air.

"My! but that certainly smells good!" exclaimed Andy.

"And it'll taste better," declared his brother, who was in charge of the actual cooking.

"And after grub we'll start in and explore Golden Peak," said Billy. "It's queer, that, though I've lived near it a long time, I never have been all over it. It's only recently that the rumor of treasure got started anew, and since then I haven't had much chance. But we'll run this thing down now."

"Unless those other fellows prevent us," suggested Frank.

Golden Peak was rather a curious formation. It was the central and the lowest of three hills in what was otherwise quite a flat country, and, with the twin points between which the river flowed, marked the beginning of a gentle rise that culminated in mountains many miles away. It was as if some great force of nature had sliced off the plain, leaving the prairies almost like a barn floor, but with these three peaks sticking up.

Golden Peak was of good height, and was several miles in circumference. It was well wooded, beginning at a point about half a mile up from the level, and there was much rocky formation.

The boys started on their explorations soon after breakfast, leaving the pack animals tethered, but riding their own steeds and carrying their guns.

"Suppose those fellows come upon our camp?" suggested Andy.

"Well, we've got to take that chance," answered Frank. "We can't hide it where they couldn't find it. But if they wreck it we'll take our revenge, that's all."

"I don't believe they'll bother us," said Billy. "They know this is the last round of the fight, and they're going to lose. If we come face to face with them they may act mean, but I don't believe they'd dare do anything."

They rode on for several miles and saw no signs of any other persons than themselves on Golden Peak. Now and then a movement in the underbrush indicated the passage of someone or some animal, but they could glimpse nothing.

They managed to shoot some sage hens and a partridge or two, insuring them a good dinner.

"But I don't see any treasure," complained Andy.

"There's where someone has been digging for it," remarked Billy, pointing to a hole in the ground. "But I guess he gave it up as a bad job."

There was quite an excavation amid the dirt and yellow rocks, but it had been abandoned after having been sunk to a depth of about five feet, showing that the looked-for gold, or other precious minerals, had not been found.

"I wonder what the treasure will be?" ventured Frank.

"Gold, I hope," said Billy. "As soon as we get to a likely place we'll do a little digging ourselves, but there's no use trying where these fellows have, for they'd find it if it was in plain sight."

"How will we know gold if we see it?" asked Frank.

"Oh, I've got a prospector's testing outfit," replied the ranch lad. "I can manage to wash some of the dirt or gravel, and if I get some yellow particles that will stand the acid test I'll know we're on the right track."

"These rocks look as if they contained some gold," suggested Andy, a little later, leaping from his horse to pick up several of the yellow stones.

Billy laughed.

"Lots of people are fooled by that," he said. "It is iron pyrites, a mixture of iron with lots of sulphur in it. The sulphur gives it the yellow color, and that's what makes Golden Peak show so yellow in the sun. Iron pyrites is often called 'fools' gold,' as it has fooled so many people. No, we've got to get a different yellow than that if we want to strike the treasure."

"Just my luck!" exclaimed Andy, in disgust, as he tossed the rocks aside.

All that day they roamed over Golden Peak, looking in vain for any signs of hidden wealth. The most that Billy hoped was that they would come to some out-cropping of precious metal that would tell of a hidden vein; but, though they did find several promising places, many of which had been prospected by the unknown men on the hill, the boys were not rewarded.

"Well, let's hike back to camp," proposed Frank, as the afternoon began to wane. "We don't want to stay in the open."

They found nothing disturbed when they got back to where they had left their burros and outfit, and supper was soon cooking.

The next day was a repetition of the first, and the boys were beginning to get discouraged. Not that they had been too hopeful, but they expected to find something.

"The treasure of Golden Peak is a myth!" exclaimed Frank, as they prepared to go back to camp on their third evening spent on the hill. "I say let's go somewhere else and camp."

"One more day," pleaded Andy, who was more hopeful than either of his companions. "Let's have one more day of it."

"All right," agreed Billy, "though I expect Uncle Richfield is getting impatient to close the gates of the dam and let the water rise. But he'll wait for us."

"It would be inconvenient if he didn't, and tried to drown us out," said Frank.

"Well, let's go down," began Andy, "and see——"

He did not finish the sentence, for he suddenly disappeared from sight, crashing through some bushes with a clatter of earth and stones.

"Hello! What's the matter?" gasped Frank.

"Andy, where are you?" yelled Billy.

"Down in a hole!" was the answer, in muffled tones. "I fell half-way through to China, I guess. Look out, don't follow me here."

Andy had been off his horse when the accident happened, or it might have been more serious. Frank now leaped from his animal and cautiously approached the place where his brother had fallen in. He saw an opening into some sort of cave, but, almost as he reached it, Andy came walking out, for the floor of the cavern, that had been concealed by the brush, was sloping.

"Well, what are you trying to do?" asked Frank.

"You can search me," answered Andy, grimly. "I didn't know that cave was there any more than you did. But it sure is a hole."

"Let's have a look," suggested Billy, and with his two chums he began pulling aside the bushes. Soon a good-sized opening was revealed, leading into a cavern the depth or size of which it was impossible to determine in the fast-gathering darkness.

"Let's go in!" cried impetuous Andy.

"Let's wait until morning," said his more cautious brother.

Billy stooped down and picked up something. It was a rusty knife, with a few specks of yellow stone.

"What have you got?" asked Frank.

"Someone has been in this cave—years ago I should judge by this rusty knife," said the ranch boy. "And, unless I'm very much mistaken, we've stumbled on the hiding place of the treasure."

"The treasure!" gasped Andy. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this is the most promising sign we've struck yet," went on Billy. "I think these are particles of gold. I can soon tell. Make a fire, so we can see."

One was kindled, and by the light of it the test was applied.

"Gold! It's gold all right!" fairly yelled Billy, as the biting acid did not tarnish the touchstone on which he rubbed the yellow particles. "There's gold in this cave, and this is probably where the old miner found his nuggets, just before he went crazy, and forgot the location of it. Since then the bushes have grown over the mouth of the cavern, and no one stumbled upon it until——"

"Until I stumbled in it!" interrupted Andy, with a laugh. "But if there's gold there let's go in and get it!"

"No," said Billy, after a moment's thought, "it's too late to-night. But we'll come the first thing in the morning, and, if the cave is big enough, we'll camp here instead of in the tent."

"But maybe those fellows will discover the cave in the night," objected Frank.

"There's not much danger," was Billy's opinion. "In fact I think those fellows have skipped out. We haven't seen any signs of 'em lately. But we can put the bushes back and in the darkness I don't believe those fellows will notice anything if they do come this way. Come on, fellows, get busy."

They soon had the entrance to the cave well concealed, and then, with their hearts filled with hope, they rode down to their camp, which they found undisturbed.

"We're going to have a storm," was Billy's forecast, as they got supper by lantern light. "But it won't matter, as we can get in the cave to-morrow and be dry while we are digging for gold."

"Just think of it!" cried Andy. "We have really found the treasure of Golden Peak!"

"Not yet," said the more careful Frank. "That old prospector may have taken it all out."

"But that's where it was, at any rate," declared Billy, looking at some of the shining yellow particles he had brought away with him.

They could hardly sleep that night, but at length did drop off in a doze, Andy taking the first watch. It was almost at an end, and he was about to awaken Billy, who was to relieve him, when he became aware of a curious noise up the valley at the end of which Golden Peak stood.

"I wonder what that is?" he mused. "It sounds like wind and rain."

At that moment a gust shook the tent, and Billy called:

"All right! I'm coming."

He glided out to join Andy a little later, and when he heard the sounds he said:

"It is rain. The storm's coming. No need to stand watch now. Let's make everything snug and stay in the tent."

Hardly had they done so when the downpour began, and it was a hard one. Fortunately the tent was waterproof, but it was sorely tried, for the wind was strong.

It was no fun getting breakfast the next morning, but they managed to boil coffee, and then, still in the downpour, they set out for the cave.

"No one's been here!" cried Andy in delight, as they saw that the bushes were not disturbed. "Now for the gold!"

They soon discovered that the cave was large enough to shelter them and their animals, and the patient beasts were glad enough to get in out of the wet.

Hardly had they made all snug, and prepared with torches and lanterns to explore the cavern, when there came a terrifying sound outside. It was like a great clap of thunder, followed by a roaring of waters. Billy rushed to the mouth of the cave.

"Fellows!" he cried, "we didn't get here a minute too soon. There's been a cloudburst, and the whole place below us will be flooded in another minute!"

---

GETTING OUT THE GOLD

With a rush and a roar the storm descended, increasing in intensity each minute. Well it was for the Racer boys and their chum that they had reached the cave in time, for they would have found it almost impossible to make their way up the side of the hill in that downpour.

"A cloudburst; eh?" echoed Frank, as he came to the entrance of the cavern and stood beside Billy. "It's lucky we got in on time."

"I should say so," agreed Andy. "Look at it rain!"

The water was coming down in sheets, and they could see scarcely ten feet beyond the mouth of the cave. It seemed as if that terrific thunder clap had actually shattered a cloud, and the rain, instead of coming down in drops, was descending in torrents.

"If those other fellows—Shackmiller's crowd—are out on Golden Peak now they'll need umbrellas," observed Andy, with grim wit.

"That's right," agreed his brother. "Lucky if they don't slide down to the bottom."

"And that's likely to happen," added Billy. "Look at those small rivers of mud and water."

He pointed to big rivulets that were coursing down the side of the hill on either hand from the opening to the big cave. Horse or man would have found it difficult to make progress against them, for they washed the soil out from under foot.

"Well, now that we're here, what shall we do?" asked Frank. "No use standing looking at the rain, even if it is a cloudburst."

"That's right," agreed Andy. "Let's get at the gold."

"I'm with you," came from Billy. "Say, we couldn't have found a better place to camp in a storm. This cave is as dry as a barn."

"Oh, that's Racer luck," answered Andy, lightly.

"I believe you," agreed his Western chum. "Well, as long as we have some lanterns, and can make torches from some of this dry wood in the cave, let's explore it a bit."

The cavern was, as I have said, a large one, extending back under the brow of Golden Peak. As the boys could see, it also branched off in different directions, smaller caves opening from the large one.

"And the question is, where is the gold?" came from Andy.

They did not have to hunt long to find it. Hardly had they gone a hundred feet back into the cave when Frank uttered a cry of delight and wonder.

"Here it is!" he shouted. "Gold! Lots of it! Sticking right out of the side of the cave!"

His brother and chum hurried to his side. Frank, holding his lantern aloft, flashed it on a vein that glowed a golden yellow in the light.

"Maybe it's only 'fools' gold," suggested Andy.

"No, I think this is the real thing," came from Billy. "We can soon tell."

Quickly he made the test, and gave a cry of delight.

"It's gold, all right!" he yelled. "Boys, we've found the treasure of Golden Peak! Or, rather, Andy did, by falling into this cave!"

"Oh, I'll whack up even," said the younger Racer boy, quickly.

Now that they were sure they had come upon the gold they examined the precious vein more closely. It cropped out in the soft sand-like rock of the cavern wall, as though squeezed by some giant hand that had crushed the rocks into their present form. The gold was in the form of a soft ore, as if it had been mixed with clay or putty, and with their hatchets the boys had no difficulty in chopping out a considerable quantity.

"But hold on!" exclaimed Billy, when they had made a precious pile in the middle of the cavern floor. "Now that we have located this lode let's look for others. This one isn't going to run away, and we may find a richer one to work."

"That's a good idea," declared Frank. "This will keep, and we might as well go to the far end of the cave and see what's there. Maybe there's a bigger vein."

They fed the horses, for it was now nearly noon, and then, eating something themselves, they started for the rear of the cavern.

It was larger than they had imagined, but their plan of going to the end of it was quickly halted. For, proceeding cautiously along, on the lookout for pits or crevices, Frank suddenly uttered a cry of warning.

"Hold on!" he called. "There's a big hole here! I nearly stepped into it! Bring the lights!"

His companions hastened to his side. There they saw that, extending all the way across the floor of the cave, was a great crack, the other side of which they could not discern. Silently Andy picked up a stone and dropped it down. It was many seconds before, from the black depths, came floating up the echoes of the crash as the rock found bottom.

"By Jove!" whispered Frank. "That must go all the way down to the foot of the hill—thousands of feet!"

"And if you had fallen—" began his brother.

"But he didn't," said Billy quickly, for he was in the habit of looking on the bright side. "Well, this ends the cave as far as we are concerned. We can't go any further, and all we can do is to go back to where we first found the gold and get out as much as we can."

"That's right," agreed the Racer boys, and, after another glance into the black depths before them, they turned back. A look from the mouth of the cave showed them that the terrific storm was still keeping up.

---

THE RISING WATER

"Well, how much do you think we've got?" asked Andy Racer, as he sat down on a pile of dirt, and looked at a mass of dull, gleaming yellow near the side of the cavern.

"Oh, we must have two or three thousand dollars' worth," declared Frank.

"More than that," came from Billy, who was wielding a shovel, pausing at intervals for a rest. "Of course this isn't pure gold, as it's mixed with clay and earth, to say nothing of the rocks, but with all that we must have nearly five thousand dollars' worth."

"As much as that?" cried Andy, eagerly.

"I think so," replied the ranch boy. "Of course my test isn't very reliable, and about all I am able to do is to say that it really is gold that we're digging out. But I think we have struck it rich, all right."

"And to think those fellows have been searching all the while for the treasure of Golden Peak and didn't find it!" commented Andy. "It was just our luck."

Billy again resumed his digging, loosening the soft soil in which appeared the curious out-cropping of the gold vein. For it was curious. It defied all the known laws of mining. It seemed that, ages ago, there must have been some upheaval of nature that thrust into the interior of the hill a streak of rich metal, isolated, as it were, from everything else.

Then the cave was formed, making a sort of envelope above the treasure, and it had been undiscovered for many years. Then came the unfortunate prospector, who, after finding the rich deposit, went crazy. Others had searched for it in vain.

Suddenly Billy uttered a cry of dismay.

"What's the matter?" asked Frank.

"It's gone!" was the answer.

"What is?"

"The gold streak! It's come to an end!"

They flashed their lanterns and torches into the crevice where Billy was working. It was only too true. After digging out a considerable quantity of the valuable earth, filled with gold, the seam, or vein, had come to an abrupt end.

"No more gold here," said Billy, digging his spade into the side of the cave.

"Maybe it crops out somewhere else," suggested Frank.

"In that case we'll have to have more tools, and help, to get at it," said the boy from the ranch. "We've reached our limit now."

"Let's try on the other side," suggested Andy. "There may be a vein there."

They looked—going carefully over the opposite side of the cavern—but no yellow streaks showed. It was as if all the gold had been collected in one narrow space.

"And we can't pass beyond the chasm in the floor of the cave," said Frank, referring to the big opening down which he had nearly fallen.

"Not without a bridge," said Andy. "But we can go back to the ranch, and come here again to look for more gold."

"Let's make sure of what we have, first," suggested Andy. "We ought to get this in shape to carry home."

Looking carefully into the big crack they had dug in the wall of the cave, to make certain that it contained no more of the precious metal, the boys proceeded to put into bags the treasure they already had. It was heavy, but they did not mind that, and, as it was about half pure gold, they figured that they had a goodly sum.

"I guess the burros can pack it back to the ranch," said Billy, as they made up bundle after bundle.

"Especially since our grub is nearly gone, and they won't have to carry that," added Frank.

"But it will be hard going through the rain," said Andy, for the big storm had still kept up, though not with such fury. The rain still descended, and the wind blew, but the cloudburst was a thing of the past.

They made the gold into small packages, so that they could easily be put on the backs of the pack animals. Since they had taken up their camp in the cave they had not gone out, as there was no necessity. They had their food, they could cook it over fires made in the cavern, their horses were safely stabled, and all there was to do was to dig out the gold.

The treasure of Golden Peak had not amounted to nearly as much as they had hoped it would, but it was still a good find, and they were very glad.

"Well, I suppose we might as well move," suggested Frank, when they had put all the precious ore into bags. "We can come back later and make a bridge across the chasm to see if there is any of the yellow stuff on the other side."

"Yes, I guess we've got all we can get at present," added Billy. "Besides, my uncle will be glad to get word that we are going to leave so he can close the dam, and——"

"But if there is more gold here he won't do that!" interrupted Frank. "We ought to hurry and tell him that we have found the treasure, and to wait a while before flooding Golden Peak."

"That's so," agreed the ranch boy. "We'll do it. Let's get back to the ranch as fast as we can."

Little more preparation was required to put them in shape for travel. It was still raining, but they did not mind that, though they realized that they would have to make quite a circuit in order to pass the river, which would be much swollen.

"Forward!" cried Frank, when the burros were laden with the remains of the food, and the precious sacks of gold. "Back to the ranch!"

They emerged from the mouth of the cave. Riding their horses, holding them well in hand, lest they slip on the wet earth, and leading the burros, the lads began their homeward march with the treasure of Golden Peak.

As Frank, who was in the lead, made a turn in the downward trail, he suddenly came to a halt. Then he uttered a cry of alarm.

"What is it?" called Andy.

"The water—the rising water!" answered his brother. "Look, there's a lake below us! We're surrounded by water!"

---

---

It was even as he said. A quarter of a mile down from the top of Golden Peak there was a sea of turbid water, and it was still rising.

"What has happened?" cried Andy.

"The gates of the dam are closed!" shouted Billy. "There has been some mistake! Uncle Richfield has closed the dam, and the lake is being made! We're caught here on Golden Peak! Everything else is under water!"

---

MAROONED

Billy's announcement seemed to strike a chill of terror to the hearts of his chums. They stood there, at the mouth of the treasure cave, and looked at the water below them—a vast lake that was slowly growing in size, and increasing in depth as the river backed up against the dam, the gates of which had been, in some manner, closed.

"It—it can't be possible!" gasped Andy.

"But it is!" cried Frank. "Here's the lake, and here we are on Golden Peak, and there's no way of getting off!"

"Unless we swim," put in Billy, "and that's no easy job, with the horses——"

"And the gold," added Andy. "What are we going to do?"

No one could answer him. Their situation was desperate, and yet, after the first feeling of fear and terror, the boys looked at the situation more calmly. They were not the sort of lads to give up easily.

"We'll find a way out; or, rather, a way off," said Frank, after a bit. "It's queer that this should happen, and, I suppose, if we hadn't been so busy getting out the gold, and stayed in the cave, we would have noticed the water rising, and we could have gotten away in time."

"That's right," agreed Billy. "There's been some mistake, I'm sure. Uncle Richfield must have thought we had left the Peak, and closed the gates. You know we did stay here longer than we said we would."

"Yes, but he was not to close the dam until he got word from us," declared Frank "And we didn't send any word. How——"

"No, but someone must have!" cried Billy, now much excited. "I begin to see it now. Those fellows—Shackmiller's gang—they knew we were here. Probably they've been spying on us all the while, though we could see no trace of them. They could not find the treasure themselves, and they decided to leave, for they must have realized that the game was up. Then they had it in for us, and hit on this revenge. They sent word to Uncle Richfield that we had left, as we said we would, and he closed the gate."

"But how could they have known we were going to send any word?" asked Andy.

"We talked of it at the dam, where all the men were working," went on Billy; "and unless I'm mistaken Shackmiller must have had a spy or two among the construction men. It would have been easy enough to do that."

"But would your uncle accept word that we had left from someone he did not know?" asked Frank.

"Probably the man, whoever he was, never saw my uncle at all," explained Billy. "He may have just ridden up to the dam and called to the foreman that we were off Golden Peak, and that the water could be backed up. We didn't say we would send word by any special messenger, you know."

"That's right," agreed Andy. "It could have been done that way. Well, we're in for it now, all right. What a lot of water!"

It was indeed a large lake that they were gazing over, and it was constantly growing larger. The river, augmented by the cloudburst, and by the continued heavy rains, had swollen greatly in size, and, in consequence, the water backed up much more rapidly than would otherwise have been the case.

"Well, what's to be done?" asked Andy. "We can't stay here—that is, not much longer. The hill will be under water in a few hours more."

"That's true," said Frank. "We've got to do something, and that soon."

It was curious to see now how the Racer boys had, in a measure, taken charge of things. Now that an emergency had arisen—one that did not have to deal directly with range matters, with which Billy was familiar—his chums came to the fore, as they had often done in times past.

"What can we do?" asked Billy, half gloomily. "I don't believe we can swim that distance. It must be miles to the nearest shore."

"Fully three," said Frank. "Yes, it would be a pretty long swim, though we might do it. But I have a better plan than that."

"What is it?" asked Billy, eagerly.

"Well, there are two things we can do," went on the elder Racer lad. "In the first place we must go to the highest part of the Peak, the one that will be the longest out of water. Then I want to see just how fast the water is rising, and we'll know how much longer we have."

"But that isn't getting us away from here," said Andy, impatiently. "We're marooned on Golden Peak. What is to be done?"

"I'm coming to that," said his brother, calmly. "We can do two things. One is to make a signal fire on the highest point of the Peak. The smoke will be seen at the ranch, for they must be watching the forming of the lake. So get some wood from the cave and we'll climb to the top, and make the signal fire."

"What's the other thing?" asked Billy, as Frank paused.

"The other thing is to cut down some trees and make a little raft that we can float on until we're rescued, after this hill is under water."

"But the horses and burros," spoke Billy. "What about them?"

"They'll have to take their chances," replied Frank. "They may be able to swim to shore. We'll have to save ourselves."

"And the gold," added Andy, quickly. "Don't forget the treasure of Golden Peak."

"We're not likely to," answered Frank, in a low voice. "It came near being the end of us—and may yet," he added. "Come on," he cried, more cheerfully. "Get to the top, and start the fire. It ought to smoke well with all this rain."

---

THE END OF GOLDEN PEAK

"Does it rise very fast, Frank?"

"Yes, she's coming up at a pretty good speed. We haven't much time to spare. We want to get away before dark if we can."

"Then come on up to the top where Billy is," and Andy began making his way up the side of Golden Peak.

He and his brother had gone from the treasure cave to the edge of the fast-forming lake to note the rise of the water, and having ascertained that the rate was quite rapid they were ready to proceed with the work of making the raft, and sending up the smoke signal. Billy had gone up toward the summit, taking the horses and pack animals with him, and also the store of gold.

"First we'll cut down as many trees as we think we'll need," suggested Frank, when the three were together again. "Then we can bind them tightly with these vines and our ropes. Andy and I will do that, and you can make the fire, Billy."

"All right," agreed the ranch lad. "Only it's getting so hazy that our smoke isn't going to be seen a great distance."

"All the more need of hurrying then," said Frank, as he gazed off across the lake. He could scarcely see the big dam, some miles away, on account of the haze that hung over the water. The ranch buildings were altogether out of sight.

"But the smoke may rise above the mist," reasoned the elder Racer lad. "I hope so, at any rate."

Rapidly he and Andy cut down small trees. They would not need many to make a raft capable of supporting themselves. As for the animals, they would have to take their chances.

The rain still continued, and Billy knew the river, in dry times a small stream, must be greatly increased in volume. He soon had a fire going, and a thick cloud of smoke arose, swirling this way and that—an excellent signal of distress if it could be observed.

"I wonder how they can rescue us?" asked Andy, as he made the last chop at a small tree, felling it.

"In a boat, of course," said Frank.

"Uncle has a boat," put in Billy. "He had it built for use on the lake. It's a big barge, and will hold several horses. In fact, it's a sort of ferry, for he calculated that he might want to send some of the ponies or farm machinery from one end of the lake to the other after the dam was built. Now, if he would only send that for us we'd be all right."

"Maybe he will," suggested Frank, hopefully. "Anyhow, keep the fire going. Now, Andy, I think we've got enough trees down. Let's see what sort of a raft we can make."

It was a crude affair that was soon in process of construction, but it would answer the purpose of saving the lads, though it would not hold the horses.

"It isn't going to be very hard to launch," commented Andy, when it was almost completed. "All we'll have to do will be to get on it and wait for the water to float it."

"And that won't be long, for she's rising fast," said Frank.

It was indeed so, as they could tell by looking down the slope of the hill. Tree landmarks that had been wholly out of the water were now almost covered. It would not be long before the whole of Golden Peak was submerged.

Several hours passed. The raft was completed, but there was no need to go to the laborious work of getting it down the side of the hill to the level of the lake. The lake itself would rise up soon enough to float it.

"Another foot will do the business," said Frank, in a quiet voice, as he noted the water lapping the stones and bushes about twelve inches from where the raft rested.

"Then we might as well get on and wait," suggested Andy. "We've got the gold as secure as we can make it."

"All right," agreed Billy. "I guess I may as well let the fire go out. They don't seem to have seen our smoke." He tossed on a final armful of wet leaves to make a thicker smudge, and gazed off through the mist for a sign of rescue. But he saw none.

The boys got on the frail raft. As they did so the horses and burros came closer to them. The animals seemed pitifully frightened.

"Good-bye, Buffalo!" exclaimed Billy, as he patted the faithful steed. "I hate to leave you, old fellow, but it's got to be. Maybe you can swim ashore."

Buffalo whinnied and stretched out his velvety nose for a caress. There were tears in Billy's eyes, and those of Frank and Andy were not altogether free from moisture, for they had grown to care very much for the animals they had ridden over the prairies.

A half hour passed. Frank, who had been looking at the water from time to time, suddenly uttered an exclamation.

"What is it?" asked his brother. "Do you see anything?"

"Yes!" cried Frank. "I see that the water hasn't risen an inch in the last half hour. Before that it was going up at the rate of nearly a foot an hour."

"Are you sure?" cried Andy.

"I certainly am. I've been watching that yellow rock there, wondering when it would be covered, but the water has been lapping at the base of it more than thirty minutes."

"What does that mean?" asked Andy, anxiously.

"That the lake has stopped rising," said Frank quickly. "Either it has reached its limit, or they have suspected something wrong at the dam, and opened the gates."

"It hasn't reached its limit," declared Billy, "for when it does this hill will be covered. It's away below the top of the dam."

"Then they know we're here and they've opened the gates!" cried Frank. "Boys, I believe we're going to be rescued!"

"And I know it!" yelled Andy, suddenly leaping to his feet. "We are rescued, fellows! There's the boat now!"

His cry of joy was answered by a shout, and from out the mist on the lake, straight for Golden Peak, came a large barge or flat-bottom ferryboat, propelled by long sweeps in the hands of the lusty cowboys. In the middle of the craft stood Mr. Thornton.

"Boys! Boys!" he cried in eager tones, "are you safe? Oh, what a narrow escape! Are you all right?"

"Yes, Uncle!" cried Billy. "We were just going to launch our ship when you hove in sight. Did you see our smoke signal?"

"We did, and that's why I had the gate opened. The waters are going down now. Oh, that scoundrel! To bring word that you had left the Peak! That's why I closed the openings in the dam. Oh! if I catch the rascals I'll fix them for this!"

"Did they say we had gone?" asked Frank.

"That's what they did—some days ago, or I never would have allowed the water to rise. But, thank Providence, you are safe. Get aboard now, and bring the horses, too. And so you were going to sail on the raft."

"That's what we were," said Billy. "The Racer boys thought of that scheme."

"Well, get aboard the barge," advised his uncle, as he gazed admiringly at the brave lads. "What have you in those bags?" and he pointed to the gold.

"That," said Frank, and he could not keep a note of satisfaction from his voice; "that is the treasure of Golden Peak!"

"The treasure of Golden Peak?" cried Mr. Thornton. "Are you joking? Was there a treasure?"

"There was!" cried his nephew, "and we got it," and then, when they had all boarded the barge, though it was no easy work to induce the animals to embark, the boys told their story, while the cowboys propelled the boat toward the lower end of the lake.

"Well, you certainly are the luckiest chaps I ever saw," said Mr. Thornton. "And it all happened just as you guessed. There must have been a traitor among the construction gang, who informed the Shackmiller crowd of your plans. We thought you had gone camping somewhere else as you said you would.

"Then, when you did not come home, after the rain kept up, your aunt got worried. I tried to tell her it was all right, but she insisted that we go out and hunt you up. We were just starting when one of my men saw the smoke on Golden Peak. Then I guessed the truth and I ordered the gates of the dam opened, so the waters would stop rising."

"And only just in time, too," said Frank. "We were so busy in the cave, getting out the gold, that we never noticed the rising waters, or we might have escaped unaided."

"But what about those men who made trouble for you?" asked Billy of his uncle.

"Oh, they've cleared out," said Mr. Thornton. "I've got them just where I want them, now. Though I did go ahead without any legal authority and flood this region I was within my rights for, only yesterday, I succeeded—or rather, my lawyers did—in getting full title to the land in dispute. There is no doubt now that Golden Peak, and the approach to it, is mine beyond question. And it will soon be where no one can get at it, for I'm going to let the waters rise again as soon as we land, and Golden Peak will be no more—that is unless there is more gold there."

"No, I think we got all there was," said Frank. "I'm glad we dug it out when we had the chance. This is the first treasure hunt I was ever on."

"And very successful," added Andy. "Say, but things have been happening lately. I wonder what's next on the list?"

What was, and what share the Racer boys had in some further adventures, will be told of in the next volume of this series, to be called "The Racer Boys on Guard, Or, The Rebellion at Riverview Hall."

It did not take long to reach the dam, where the boat was moored, and then the Racer boys, and their chum, with Mr. Thornton and the cowboys, rode across the prairie to the ranch. The gates in the dam were closed, and that night Golden Peak disappeared forever under the waters of the irrigation lake.

There is little more to tell. The treasure did not amount to as much as the boys had hoped it would, but still it was a substantial sum.

"Besides, look at the fun we had!" exclaimed Andy.

"That's all you think of," complained his brother, with a laugh.

"Well, haven't we a right to, after what we've gone through?" asked Andy.

"I should say so," agreed Billy. "Oh, but I'm glad you boys came West with me! I've never had such a fine summer."

"And we got the best of Shackmiller and his crowd," commented Frank. "You won't have anything to fear now, when you come back to Riverview Hall, Billy."

"That's right, though I don't know whether I'll come back or not."

As Frank had said, the Shackmillers were completely routed. The twin brothers disappeared after Sam had recovered from his injuries. Later it was learned that Bruce Shackmiller had played the part of the hypocrite while being taken care of at Double X ranch. It was he who had taken the valuable paper and escaped in the night, though the document did him no good. As for the others who had sought the treasure of Golden Peak, and claimed the land that was rightfully Mr. Thornton's, they, too, went their several ways, it not being thought worth while to seek to bring them to justice, even though they had tried their best to endanger the lives of our heroes.

"And now for a good gallop!" cried Andy, one day, as he and his brother and chum leaped on the backs of their horses.

"I'm glad we could save them," said Frank, as he called to his mount to leap ahead and get on even terms with his brother's. "I never knew I could like a horse so."

"He's yours—to keep," said Billy quickly. "And so is Andy's. Uncle said I could give them to you."

"He did?" cried the Racer boys. "Whoop! That's great!" and away they dashed over the sun-lit prairie, toward the big dam, behind which the waters of the lake sparkled bright. And there we will take leave of them.

THE END

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BOOKS BY CLARENCE YOUNG

THE RACER BOYS SERIES

12mo. Illustrated.

Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid.

THE RACER BOYS
THE RACER BOYS AT BOARDING SCHOOL
THE RACER BOYS TO THE RESCUE
THE RACER BOYS ON THE PRAIRIES

(Other volumes in preparation.)

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THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES

12mo. Illustrated.

Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid.

THE MOTOR BOYS THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND
THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO
THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS
THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT
THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC
THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS
THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC
THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS
THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE ROCKIES
THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE OCEAN
THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE WING
THE MOTOR BOYS AFTER A FORTUNE
THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE BORDER

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THE JACK RANGER SERIES

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Price per volume, $1.00, postpaid.

JACK RANGER'S SCHOOLDAYS
JACK RANGER'S WESTERN TRIP
JACK RANGER'S SCHOOL VICTORIES
JACK RANGER'S OCEAN CRUISE
JACK RANGER'S GUN CLUB
JACK RANGER'S TREASURE BOX