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It appeared upon examination of various persons connected with the reduction-works that the young American had been in the habit of riding forth at night, sometimes attended by a servant, but often alone, spending hours of the beautiful moonlight in exploring the deep cañons of the mountains, having, seemingly, a peculiar love for their wild solitudes and an utter disregard of danger. More than once when he had ventured forth alone, the gate-keeper or clerk had remonstrated, but he had laughed at their fears; and in fact it was the mere habit of caution that had suggested them, the whole country being at that time remarkably free from marauders, and the idea that John Ashley—almost a stranger, so courteous, so well liked by inferiors, as well as by those who called themselves his equals or superiors—should have a personal enemy had never entered the mind of even the most suspicious. But for once the cowards were justified; the brave man had fallen, the days of his young and daring life were ended.