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DAVE PORTER IN THE GOLD FIELDS

were pleased to learn that they had not suffered through the wild run along the rocky trail.

"If that Staver shows himself around Butte I'll settle accounts with him," said the old miner, while eating. "But I reckon he'll stay away for a while."

After an hour's rest the old miner announced that he was ready to go forward once more. The sun was now well in the west, and it was not near so hot as it had been in the middle of the day.

"I wish we could catch up to the Blower party by to-night," said Roger, earnestly. "Mr. Dillon, do you think we can do it?"

"We can try, lad. But you must remember, we'll have to favor the hosses a leetle. They have had a mighty hard run on't."

"I know. Well, don't go any further than you deem wise."

For the distance of half a mile the trail was comparatively good. But then they came to an uneven locality, filled with dangerous holes and pitfalls.

"Careful here, boys!" cried Tom Dillon. "We don't want none o' the hosses to break a leg."

He was in the lead, and under his guidance they advanced slowly. At the top of a short rise of ground he came to a halt.

"Here is where part o' that landslide occurred,"