"If it were not for the Whipple gang the mountains would have been
opened up to the prospectors long ago. Several prospectors, unheedful of
the warnings, have gone in, but none have ever come out of the Sweet
Grass Mountains.
"Whoever is at the head of the Whipple gang possesses more than the
usual share of brains, courage, and luck. Keep your eye peeled, and good
fortune to you."
This letter had been read to the boys one night in camp, and all were
instructed to look out for strangers on the ranch and to inform
themselves of the business of such.
One night Carl started from the sign camp to ride north to meet the
rider from sign camp No. 2, which lay nearer the mountains.
The camp in which Bud and Carl were stationed was camp No. 1.
The distance between the camps was about six miles, so that each rider
had to go about three miles to meet.
The night was clear and cold, and the air fairly sparkled with the frost
in the brilliant white moonlight. It was a glorious night, and Carl, in
a leather coat lined with fleece, and with a fur cap upon his head, and
his feet in thick felts, started away from the camp on his ride.
There was no wind, but the temperature was very low.
To the north the Sweet Grass Mountains loomed, a black mass against the
sky, while all about the world was carpeted with snow.
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