After supper they pulled down the blankets and carefully warmed them before the fire.  Then the two boys sat and planned concerning the coming camp until they grew sleepy.  After a great pine knot had been placed for the night log, the boys slipped into bed between at least a dozen blankets.

Just before going to bed, Willis prepared a few choice slivers so that a fire could be quickly started in the morning, and he left them in a little pile on the hearth.  In the night he heard strange noises down on the floor, but, because it was so cold, he did not venture out to investigate, and in the morning every chip was gone.  The mystery of the chips grew deeper.

They lay in bed late next morning, for the cabin was cold and dark and they were so comfortable.  Time was nothing to them that day.  As they lay, chatting, Ham suddenly squeezed Willis’s arm, then raised on his elbow to listen.  He heard voices, and they were coming up the canyon.  He crawled to where he could peep out of the window, but all he could see were the feet of two men and a dog.  The cabin was very cold, so he slipped back between the blankets to warm and talk it over with Willis.  About nine o’clock they got up, still wondering what could have brought men into that canyon on such a morning.

Surely there was no hunting, and why should men from the claim in the other gulch be coming up through Buffalo Park?  The boys were bothered.  They were just sitting down to a breakfast of steaming-hot cakes when from somewhere up in the timber came the clear sound of some one hammering on metal, heavy blow after blow.  Ham paused, listened attentively, a forkful of hot cake raised half-way to his mouth.  The sound came very clearly and at regular intervals.

“Sounds like some one pounding a stone drill; perhaps they are going to do some blasting!”

Willis rose from his seat, threw open the door, and looked up the snowy hillside.  He was right—­the sound came from the direction of his father’s mine.

“What on earth would any one be blasting up there for?” he said, half to himself.  He was thinking of what Ben had told him the last time he was at the Roost.  Ham had also risen from the table and stood looking out over Willis’s shoulder.  The bark of a dog came floating down the canyon.

Suddenly there was a sharp rattle in the corner of the cabin, followed by a heavy thud.  Ham turned quickly, just in time to see the ax fall to the floor from its place in the corner.  Willis felt a long, cold shiver creep up his back.  The ax had been laid on top of the little stove in the corner, and something had caused it to fall.

“Spooks,” laughed Ham dryly.

“What made that ax fall?” questioned Willis in a voice which betrayed his feeling.  They advanced cautiously toward the corner.  There was a scamper of tiny feet, and a large gray rat bounded across the floor and dropped out of sight through a long opening between the floor and the wall.  In a moment Willis was down on his hands and knees, investigating.