The black line on that paper points out the road you are to follow; the light lines, that branch off from it, are old bridle-paths.

Look at the paper often, and you can't get lost.

He has never seen you, you know, and, when you find him, you must show him my knife to prove that you are a friend.

Bear one thing in mind, now, and that is, you are playing a dangerous game, and if you are found out, the country around here will be too hot to hold you.

Remember that I am your only friend in this matter, and say nothing to nobody except me." With this piece of advice, the Ranchero galloped off, and Arthur, after placing the knife in his belt, and putting the paper carefully away in his pocket, rode toward the mountains.
During the next few hours, Arthur consulted his paper frequently, and, about noon, he was standing at the base of a precipitous cliff, twenty miles from home, examining the natural features of the place, and comparing them with his diagram.