The trapper was thoughtful.
“Wall,” he muttered after a time. “I reckon you’ve heard of Satan’s Hole?”
“No,” replied Frank.
“Sho! Wall there is where he an’ his party likely is.”
“What sort of a place is it?”
Beaver Bill shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t imagine him nor his pals are in ther hole,” he said, “for no man kin live thar any great length of time. But it was said that thar was a big gold mine jest at ther entrance to Satan’s Hole.”
This account was extremely interesting to Frank.
“Go on!” he said.
“Wall, Satan’s Hole is a terrible place. It’s a deep valley two miles long and hemmed all in by high walls of rock.”