Frank hurried to Borak and leaped into the saddle.
“Only one thing to do, fellows,” he announced, “and that’s for us to ride for Camp Hawtrey.”
“Bully!” exulted the red-headed chap. “That gang will sure welcome us with open arms.”
“They will that,” agreed Dolliver. “Say, if you go to the kunnel’s camp, jest now, ye’ll have the time o’ your lives.”
“All right,” answered Frank, “I don’t care how hot a time they give us providing we can do something to help Darrel. Come on, fellows!”
He pointed Borak for the mouth of the cañon, and set off at speed. Clancy and Ballard made after him.
The cañon trail was narrow and the riders were obliged to proceed in single file. When they turned into the gulch, however, they were able to ride stirrup to stirrup.
“I don’t like the prospect a little bit,” said Frank. “Now that Bleeker and Hotch have left the Gold Hill camp, there isn’t a fellow there that’s at all friendly toward Darrel.”
“Hawtrey’s there,” suggested Ballard. “Don’t forget that, Chip. Hawtrey won’t have anything to do with Curly, but you can bet he won’t let Jode rough things up with him.”
“That’s right, Pink. Darrel must be a little hazy in his mind to start for the Gold Hill camp at such a time as this.”