This argument being unanswerable, Steve took the back track, and after being away from camp all day, returned about sundown with the missing axe and an old buckskin glove.
"So you found the axe, I see?" was Corbett's greeting when the two met.
"Yes, I found it; I knew to a dot where I left it. But it was deuced careless to leave it anyway, wasn't it? By the way, you did not leave anything behind you in that camp, did you?"
"No, not I. I always go round camp before leaving to look for things. I only wonder that I did not see your axe."
"Oh, you wouldn't do that, I left it sticking in a cotton-wood tree a quarter of a mile from camp. But didn't you leave your 'mitts' behind?"
"No, my dear chap. I tell you I don't leave things behind. Here are my mitts;" and the speaker drew from his pocket a pair of buckskin gloves much frayed and worn.
"Then who in thunder is the owner of this?" exclaimed Chance, holding up a single glove very similar in make to those which Corbett wore.
"Your own glove, I expect, Steve, isn't it? I haven't seen you wearing any lately, and one wants them pretty badly amongst these rocks. You thought that you had caught me tripping, did you, my boy?" and Ned laughed heartily at his companion's crest-fallen appearance.
"No, Ned, this isn't mine," replied Steve seriously. "See here, it would hold both my hands."
"That is odd. Where did you find it, Steve?" and taking the glove in his hands Ned examined it carefully.