"That would seem to explain his scared way of looking down into the cellar through the trapdoor in the floor," Frank observed. "And thinking he'd have an easier mind if all evidence was destroyed, the notion to burn down the hotel came to him. That was why he left his hat behind."
"What luck did you have, Dad? Found that Lost Mountain, I hope," said Lanky, after some further talk about the fire.
"I'm sorry to say we didn't meet with much success, son. But we've decided to go on a new track to-morrow, and hope for better luck."
They found a good place to make camp, avoiding the vicinity of the deserted town, lest their enemies return on some account and give them trouble. The ponies were not forgotten, and both Mr. Wallace and Zander admitted that Jerry's natural corral was the finest freak of nature they had ever seen.
Another day dawned, and once more the three men set out. It was a long day to the boys. Lanky put in a portion of his time in fishing for trout in a noisy stream of icy water that ran down the mountainside not far away.
When he came back about noon he carried a string of the fattest and freshest speckled trout Frank and Paul had ever seen.
"Game fighters, every one of 'em, in the bargain!" declared the fisherman. "You must go along with me this afternoon, boys, and we'll lay in enough to feed the whole bunch."
This they did, and with such success that the memory of that day's sport would remain with the young sportsmen as a fragrant memory.
"We sure must ask permission to get busy ourselves to-morrow," said Lanky, as they once more made camp. "If the men are knocked out again to-day it'd be only fair to give us a chance to best them. Our vacation's getting along, and soon we'll be on our way back to Columbia, to spend the rest of this blooming summer."