“I don’t know,” came gloomily from Diamond. “This dismal, burning desert is enough to turn the brain of any fellow.”
“Yah!” cried Toots. “Don’ yeh git no noshun dat boy ebber had his brain turned! It am de weak brains dat git turned dat way. His brain was all right, but I jes’ know fo’ suah dat he hab been cotched.”
“And I suppose you want to run away as soon as possible before you are ‘cotched?’”
Then the colored boy surprised them all by saying:
“No, sar, I don’ want teh go ’way till we knows what hab become ob Marser Frank. Dat boy alwus stick by his frien’s, an’ dis coon am reddy teh stick by him, even if he do git cotched.”
“Good stuff, Toots!” cried Rattleton, approvingly. “You are all right! If anything has happened to Frank we’ll know what it is or leave our bones here.”
The boys were worried. They hurriedly talked over the remarkable disappearance, trying to arrive at an understanding of its meaning.
At length it was agreed that Frank might have gone back to try to solve the mystery of the skeleton, and then they decided that two of the party should remain where they had made their night bivouac, while the other two proceeded to search for Merriwell.
Diamond insisted on being one of the searchers, and Rattleton was determined to be the other, so Browning and Toots were left behind.
The boys mounted their wheels and rode back toward the pass through the bluffs.