Of course there was no trace of this left. In fact, there was not a single familiar feature on the landscape of that doomed valley.
The stream had subsided, so he had no trouble in fording it a little above where the bridge had been.
Every vestige of vegetable growth was swept away, leaving the scene but a waste of rocks, and he could now look up the defile even to where the ruined dam stood out like a skeleton of rock.
Little Snap stopped for several minutes to gaze upon the sight, but he was about to move on, knowing that he had already lost so much time that he would be a couple of hours late, when a dark object, suspended from the branches of a tree on the mountainside above the reach of the flood, caught his attention.
Riding a little nearer to it, he saw that it was a man's coat.
"Is it possible some one was in the valley above here at the time?" he exclaimed. "Stand where you are, Tom, and I will get it."
With considerable hard climbing, he gained a position from which he secured the coat.
It was a blue jean jacket, looking the worse for wear.
"No great loss to the owner nor prize to me," he thought, as he returned to the side of his horse. "But it has a decidedly familiar look. I wonder if there is anything in its pockets to tell the owner's name?"
Beginning an investigation, he quickly drew forth a sheet of paper, which, from its crumpled condition, showed that it had been thrust away hastily.