Willis was eyeing the newcomers closely. A stern, hard look crossed his face as he quickened his pace. He reached Mr. Allen's side, and the first rider nodded to him. He drew nearer and observed the sketch very closely, listening intently to all the strangers had to say. His heart was beating fast, but just why he could not have told.
"Well, Jim, I guess we'd better unsaddle an' give the nags a drink an' a rest," said the stranger as he carefully folded up the sketch and put it in his pocket. "Seems strange as how we'd meet twice in these mountains in nearly as many days, don't it?" remarked the man, as he began to loosen the saddle girths and to untie the sacks of grub that were fastened on behind.
"How is that?" queried Mr. Allen.
"Why, wasn't it you that went up the trail to the top of Cheyenne the other day?" questioned the man. Then, without waiting for a reply, he went on: "We was doin' an assessment up there that day an' seed you as you stood talkin' to that crusty old prospector that works that tunnel."
"O yes," said Mr. Allen, "so you are the men that were up there by that black dump?"
"Yep, we're the fellers, Jim an' me."
"Are you going to do more assessment work here in this canyon?" questioned Ham.
"Yep, we've got two assessments to do here somewhere," returned the stranger. "This canyon, or at least part of it, belongs to a real estate company in Colorado Springs. I don't believe there is any gold here, but they are holdin' the property as an investment. Seems like they expect sometime to open this canyon to tourist trade to see some swell falls that's up in it somewheres."
"O, is that so?" returned Mr. Allen. "Then you don't think there is any gold here at all?"
"Nope, I don't, an' I'll tell ye why. Gold, as it's found in these parts, runs in a strata of quartz. Now, there ain't no quartz in this range, except on Cheyenne. The old-timer down at the inn says that there's gold up here, an' he knows where it is, but you can't take no stock in these old fellers. They're daft on the gold question."