"Evenin'," called the man with the scar.
"Same to you," retorted Zeke.
"We're doin' a bit o' prospecting or at least we expect to do some and got caught up here in a gully which we can't very well get across where we are. We saw the smoke of your fire and thought we might come down and perhaps you would invite us to spend the night with you."
"You're entirely welcome," said Zeke. The guide's manner was quiet and there was nothing to belie the apparent cordiality of the statement he had just made.
The young campers, however, were by no means convinced that their unbidden visitors were parties whom they could welcome.
Already the sun was below the western cliffs, although its beams in certain places still flashed between the mountains and tinged the sides of the adjacent canyon with myriad dancing and delicate colors.
Hospitality, however, was a part of the life on the plains and seldom was any unexpected guest turned away from a human habitation or company. Suspicious though the boys certainly were they did not offer any protest and in response to their invitation to share in the remnants of their evening meal, the two strangers at once accepted and seated themselves not far from the camp-fire.
It was not until they had eaten that they explained more in detail who and what they were. Not long before this time they had come from Tombstone to search for a mine of whose existence they declared they had received information from certain somewhat vague reports.
"The trouble is, Mr. Stranger," one of them explained, "that we don't know just where this mine is. There was a report in Tombstone that an old prospector up here had struck it rich, but that he died or at least hadn't been heard from since the report started. The Indians say that he was looking for his mine in a part of the country where the Great Spirit has forbidden the children o' men to come. They declare that this prospector didn't die a natural death."
"What did he die of?" inquired Zeke.