negotiate it, and finally found themselves on a fairly good trail.
"We'll soon be there," Bill assured them, "After you get in the little cave, where I'm going to hide you, I'll have to leave you for a spell, until I get my ghost rigging fixed up again. But I'll see that you have plenty of food and drink."
A little later their guide came to a sudden halt, and peered around anxiously.
"What's the matter?" asked Tom.
"I was just looking to see if any of the men were about," he answered. "But I guess not—it looks all right. The entrance is right here."
They were on a side of the mountain, near the summit. Below stretched a magnificent scene. A great valley lay at their feet, and they could look off to many distant peaks. The main trail to Leadville, and the one to the settlement of Indian Ridge, was in sight.
Suddenly Tom, who had been using a small but powerful telescope, uttered an exclamation, and focussed the instrument on a speck that seemed moving along on the trail below.
"A man—coming up the mountain," cried Tom. "And—it can't be—yet it is it's Farley Munson—the stowaway!" he cried. "He's coming here!"
