Captain Graves was a methodical man, and kept a minute record in the form of a diary of everything that occurred from day to day.

There were volumes in his cabin on the plateau that related the adventures and vicissitudes of his life from the time of the Mexican war down. They were wonderfully interesting.

Here is the account of his trip with Tom and likewise the opinion that he had formed of us three boys.

“It has been a real pleasure for me to have the three boys, Jim, Jo and Tom, with me. One sometimes grows tired of being always alone, even when surrounded by all the beauties of nature and even one’s books fail to interest at times.

“So it has meant a good deal to me to have the boys as my companions for the past months, to see them through their various adventures and to instruct them in the few things that I know well, such as woodcraft and mountaineering.

“I have had Tom with me of late, because he seems somewhat isolated from the other two boys by his nature, and though no younger than Jo he is smaller and this makes me regard him more carefully.

“He is an exceedingly bright lad, though cursed with a rather sharp tongue. The other two, like to stir him up, and since his return from the east they make life interesting for him by joking him about being a tenderfoot.

“Jo is an interesting boy, and though he is fond of books, I predict that he will be a soldier. He is obedient to orders, and will gain self-reliance as he goes along. Physically, he is quick, and has great endurance.

“Jim is the oldest and the leader. He has in him the making of an ideal scout. He is resourceful, cool headed and has great audacity, which will be tempered by experience as he goes along. Jim has also uncommon physical strength, superior to that of most men.

“The West is fine training ground for these three, and it will make men of them. Sometime they may be of real service to their country and if I can teach them anything from my experience I will consider it a privilege.

“Now, I must chronicle something of Tom’s and my hunting trip and the subsequent adventures that befell us.

“Jo and Jim took their cayuses and went down the canyon, where we had made camp, to the plains, looking for antelope, while Tom and I went back in the mountains to see if we could not locate some mountain sheep.

“I remembered hunting through this region in the old days, some years after the Mexican War, and at that time it was a splendid section for big game, but now I did not expect to find a great deal, for the Apaches were hunting this region continually.

“We worked our way slowly back into the range, but saw no game until near the middle of the afternoon when Tom discovered three goats high up on a cliff. Tom’s eyes are remarkably keen. In this he excels his two brothers, and mine are beginning to show the effect of the years.

“The goats saw us coming and jumped up the side of that apparently precipitous rock, nimble as fleas. I knew perfectly well how they would make tracks, so we took a wide detour and came into a high valley on the other side.

“We could just make out two white specks among some rocks at the top of the valley and we approached them under cover, but they were wary and I was finally forced to risk a chance shot.

“Two of them had disappeared over the ridge of the valley to the west, but the old Billie stood for a moment poised on a rock looking our way. He was slantways to me. Without dismounting I took aim and fired.

“To my surprise he slid from that rock in a hurry. Tom was jubilant and I was not displeased, for it was one of the prettiest shots that it has been my good fortune to make.

“The goat was a very good specimen and as the boys cannot take him along with them on their trip, I shall have his curly horned head in my cabin on the wall, facing the elk’s head.

“It was too late for us to get back that night to the camp, as we were about a day’s trip distant. So we decided to make camp in the valley. I was not worried about Jim and Jo, for I felt sure that they could take care of themselves, and I did not really expect them to make the canyon camp either.

“The next day, we hunted slowly down. About noon we started a bunch of goats and they led us a merry chase. At one time I thought we had them cornered. But they were wiser than the hunters, for just as we were in range, they disappeared into a cave in the precipitous wall of rock.

“I decided that we had best be satisfied with our luck, and push on to the camp. It did not take us more than a couple of hours to reach the canyon, but no sooner did we come to the slight trail leading down it, than I made a discovery.

“I jumped hastily off from my horse and examined a footprint in a bit of shelving gravel. A little further on I caught it again.

“‘Tom,’ I whispered, ’I shall have to scout a little. Here’s a live Apache track only a few minutes old. You stay here and keep watch up the canyon, and I will see what this beggar is up to.’

“Silently and stealthily I made my way down the canyon. When I came in sight of the camp the two pack horses were nowhere to be seen. Then I knew what had happened.

“I lost no time in following the Indian, who was was driving off our animals. I hoped to catch him before he got out on the plains, and I caught sight of him after I had gone a half a mile.

“He was a rather short, squat Indian, but powerfully built. I could have shot him in the back, but I hated to do that even to an Apache thief. So I followed quickly on his trail. Once he turned suspiciously, but I dropped instantly to cover.

“With a silent rush I came up behind him and when I was about ten feet away, he turned, and before he had recovered from his instantaneous surprise, I had smashed him down with the butt of my rifle.

“My next move was to tie him up good and fast, and then gag him. Then I went back for Tom, who was much relieved to see me.

“‘Where are the boys?’ he inquired anxiously.

“‘They evidently haven’t returned,’ I replied, ’but I am sure they are all right.’

“But I, too, was worried, though I did not wish to alarm Tom. So I put the best face on it that was possible.

“‘Did you see the Apache?’ asked Tom.

“‘Yes, and fortunately before he saw me,’ I replied.

“‘Did you get him?’

“‘Just in time,’ I replied, ’he was helping himself to our pack animals, when I arrested him with my rifle.’

“‘Where is he now?’ Tom inquired.

“‘Oh, he is down the canyon a ways snugly tied up in a bundle.’

“I determined to get some idea of where the missing boys were. So I left Tom to guard the pack animals and I rode down to the mouth of the canyon and found the trail easily, where they had ridden south in the search for antelope.

“I was by this time thoroughly alarmed, and the conviction forced itself on me that they had been killed by the Apaches, but I shook the thought off. I would not have it so.

“That Jim and Jo were in difficulties of some kind was certain, and it was up to me to get them out of it. But what should I do, and where should I look? Then suddenly the problem was solved for me. I had ridden to a place where I could see the whole sweep of plains to the south, but keeping under cover of the growth of oaks that fringed the base of the foot hills, when I saw a war party of Apaches at a distance of several miles, making straight for the mountain.

“Instinctively I recognized their object and I likewise knew that so large a party would not be going back into the mountains so late in the day unless upon some special quest.

“In a short time the whole party of braves had disappeared into a canyon whose location I marked exactly. They have got those boys corraled in there, I said to myself, there is no question about that. I bet they are making a brave fight, those two, but they will have reinforcements pretty soon, or my name is not Captain Graves.

“‘Did you see any signs of them?’ inquired Tom eagerly, as I came up to him.

“‘I have them located,’ I replied.

“‘Where?’

“’Only in a general way, but I suspect that the Apaches have them located specifically.’

“‘But not staked out,’ said Tom.

“A shudder went through me, for Tom did not realize the significance of the phrase with its suggestion of Indian torture.

“‘No,’ I said, ’they won’t be staked out if the captain is active enough to get around this section of the country.’

“I did not like the canyon, where we had made our camp previously, as it seemed to be a thorough-fare for the Apaches, so I decided to make a move even if it was now growing dusk.

“‘We will make a start this evening, Tom,’ I said, ’this is a pretty situation, but there are some things I don’t like about it.’

“‘All right, captain,’ he replied, ‘whatever you say.’

“So we started driving our pack horses before us.”