“We’ve been busy getting it cleaned up,” Bob said, “for of course it was left in a pretty bad state.”
Joanne peeped into the little cabin when Bob went to get two lanterns and Jack extinguished the fire. It was a rough-looking place with bunks at one side, a clumsy table, a couple of benches and a few shelves, but, as Bob said, it served.
In a few minutes the three started off, Joanne feeling very safe under the escort of the two Boy Scouts. Mr. Pattison’s farm adjoined that owned by Jack’s uncle, and soon they were in sight of the river. A little further on they heard some one calling, then the clatter of hoofs, and presently appeared a horse and rider dashing toward them.
“It’s Pablo and Chico!” cried Joanne stopping short.
The little pony whinnied and came to a standstill. Pablo swung himself to the ground, dropped on his knees and cried: “Gracias a Dios! it is the señorita!”
“Quite safe and sound,” declared Joanne. “Here are my two rescuers, Pablo. One of them is an old friend. Do you remember him?”
“Why, hello, Pablo,” exclaimed Bob, “do you remember me?”
Pablo stared. “It is mi amigo Roberto,” he exclaimed.
“We are getting surprises all around,” said Bob. “I certainly am glad to see you again. I have often wondered where you were, Pablo. You never told us when you were writing to mother,” he said in an aside to Joanne.
“Oh, dear, no; I always had so much else to tell her, about the Girl Scouts and school and all that.”