It was Hank Hazletine, the cowman, who leaped over the head of Jack Dudley when he was crouching on the rock in the canyon, and it happened in this way:  
It has been intimated that when the veteran left the boy at the temporary camp on the mountain side his intention was to learn the whereabouts of Motoza, the Sioux, hoping thereby to gain knowledge of the missing Fred Greenwood.
 
This was a task of extreme difficulty, inasmuch as it was certain the vagrant red man would be on his guard against such strategy. The Indian whom Hank saw with the aid of the spy-glass was not he whom he wished to trace, but, suspecting he was in the vicinity, the cowman made his way thither by a roundabout course. He was on the alert for the fellow, or for his ally, Bill Tozer. Should either or both of them discover Hank, he might well assume that it was an accident. It could hardly be expected of him that he would remain at the cavern for twenty-four hours, awaiting the time for Tozer to meet him. His most natural course would be to engage in hunting with his youthful companion, and he could reasonably claim to be thus engaged if a meeting took place.
 
Should events prove that the plotters were too watchful to be caught off their guard, then the second phase of the business was to be considered; but it remained to be seen whether such was the fact. The ransom was to be agreed to when it was apparent that no other course could save the lad.
 
Advancing with the care and stealth of a trained Indian scout, Hazletine remained but a short time near the break in the canyon, for suspecting, as did Jack Dudley, that it was in that neighborhood the key to the situation was to be found, he was exposing himself to discovery. He climbed the same ascent, leaped the canyon, and ensconced himself on the further side. His intention was to peer over the edge into the depths below, instead of taking the course followed later by his young friend.
 
He was acting on this idea, when he came within a hair of spoiling everything by committing the very blunder against which he had sought with so much pains to guard. At his height above the torrent, as will be remembered, no one was disturbed by the roar of the waters far below. Because of his susceptibility to sounds, he heard an exclamation uttered by some one near him. The point whence it came was a clump of rocks hardly fifty feet distant, and he fancied he recognized the voice as Bill Tozer's. To his relief he could see no one, and it was safe, therefore, to assume that no one as yet saw him.
 
The ground was favorable, and by using the utmost care he secured a position from which he discovered Tozer and Motoza in conversation. The white man was sitting on a boulder, while the Sioux was standing in front of him, gesticulating as if angry over something that had been proposed or said. Tozer was smoking a pipe, and seemed cool and collected, though the exclamation which had betrayed him indicated that it had not been thus from the beginning.
 
It was an important discovery for Hazletine to make, but it was attended by two exasperating facts: the interview was nearly over, and the words that remained to be spoken were uttered in such moderate tones that he could not hear a syllable. If the couple had been obliging enough to raise their voices, it is probable that the knowledge sought by the eavesdropper would have soon been at his command.
 
But nothing of that nature took place. Within five minutes after the arrival of the cowman, prepared to act his part as spy, Motoza turned about and walked away in the direction of the canyon, while Tozer took a course which, if continued, would lead him to the plateau.
 
"I don't think he'll go there, fur he's no reason to look fur me in that place afore to-morrer morning."
 
But the white man was not the important factor in the problem. Hank waited for some minutes after he had passed from sight, and then set out to regain sight of Motoza, which task proved more difficult than he expected. The fellow had vanished, and it was impossible to tell whither he had gone. The rocky surface left no trail which even an Apache could follow, and it only remained for the cowman to fall back upon what may be called general principles.
 
The experience of the cowman was another illustration of how much depends in this world on what is called chance.
 
Jack Dudley, without any preliminary training in woodcraft, discovered Motoza as he emerged from the canyon, while the veteran of the West, skilled in all the ways of his venturesome life, spent hours in looking for the Sioux without obtaining the first glimpse of him. That he missed him by a margin that could not have been narrower was a fact; but "a miss is as good as a mile," and the autumn afternoon drew to a close without the first glimmer of success on his part. He had gone so far, even, as to visit a distant camp-fire, whose smoke still faintly showed against the clear sky, but failed to see a living person.
 
He was on the point of giving over his quest, when the unexpected happened. Within a few hundred yards of the break in the canyon he caught sight of Motoza and Tozer holding another consultation. They had evidently just met, and the configuration of the ground enabled Hazletine to steal near enough to catch some of the words spoken by the couple.
 
The two were standing face to face, and their actions were peculiar. Motoza was in the act of handing his Winchester rifle to Tozer, who, accepting the weapon, turned it over and examined it with interest. Since he could not speak the Sioux he used the English language, of which, as will be remembered, Motoza possessed a fair knowledge.
 
"You're lucky," he said; "the gun is worth more than yours. So you made a trade with the young man?"
 
"Yes—me trade," replied the Sioux, his painted face relaxing with the grin that had become almost chronic.
 
"I don't s'pose he made any objection—that is, he gave you his gun without making a kick?"
 
The Sioux nodded his head and still grinned, Tozer joining him in the last expression of his feelings.
 
"How about his revolver?"
 
"He gib me that," said the scamp, drawing forth the handsome weapon, where Hazletine had not observed it, thrust into the girdle about his waist.
 
There was no mistaking the meaning of these words and proceedings. All doubt was removed as to the abduction of Fred Greenwood. Motoza was the agent in the outrage, though whether Tozer had taken an active part in the same was yet uncertain. He scanned the smaller firearm, and then, instead of returning it to the Sioux, deliberately shoved it into his hip-pocket.
 
"I think I'll take charge of that, Motoza."
 
The buck was about to make angry objection, when the white man explained:
 
"When I meet Hank to-morrow he'll want some proof that I can turn over the youngster to him. He won't believe I can do so till he sees that proof. I'll show him this revolver, and he'll know it belongs to the youngster. That will be all the proof he'll ask. The rest will come easy; and, Motoza, you and I will be rich."
 
There was an emphasis in this declaration that was convincing to the dusky partner in crime. He nodded his head and made no further protest. Evidently he was under the influence of his white ally.
 
At this juncture the couple turned their backs upon the eavesdropper, who had stolen to within a few paces of them. They continued talking, but the change of position prevented his hearing what was said. It was peculiarly exasperating, for, though he had gained considerable information, he still lacked the most important news of all. He had heard no intimation of where the prisoner was held. Could he but learn that, he would have lost no time in attempting his rescue. It must be said, furthermore, that had such knowledge come to him he would not have hesitated to draw bead on the two miscreants in turn, and shoot them down in their tracks. He was thoroughly enraged, and they deserved the fate.
 
A few minutes after the change of position the couple walked away, side by side, still conversing. Certain discovery would have followed any attempt on the part of the cowman to keep at their heels or nigh enough to overhear their words, so he held his place and saw them pass from sight. He had noted the direction, however, and observed that it led from the canyon and deeper into the mountains.
 
This was puzzling. It seemed to Hank that one or both would make their way to the prison of the youth, for it was unlikely that he would be left alone through the night. Having no thought of being under surveillance, Motoza and Tozer would take a direct course to the place of confinement, which now seemed to be deeper in the mountains, and at some point of which the cowman had no suspicion.
 
It was of the highest importance that the couple should not be allowed to pass beyond sight, and the cowman began a cautious search for them. But once more he was doomed to disappointment. In the gathering twilight it was impossible to regain sight of them, and, convinced of the uselessness of the attempt, he gave it up.
 
"It begins to look as if Tozer holds the winning hand," he angrily muttered; "there ain't no question that the two have the younker safe, and I've no idee where to hunt fur him—but hold on!"
 
The conviction, or rather suspicion, that the prison of the youth was within the canyon returned to the hunter with redoubled force. Why had he not se............