"Where are you going?" whispered Hodge, in surprise.
"Never mind," was the answer. "Take your rifle and come along."
The men were sleeping heavily. The horses stamped restlessly at a distance of two or three rods. The stars were fading before the gray light that slowly spread in the east.
Bart secured his rifle. Frank had his already, and they stole out of the bivouac.
Frank led the way, walking swiftly, and making no noise.
Bart wondered what the boy meant to do. Surely he did not think of skipping the party, for the horses were abandoned.
The dark-haired lad could not restrain his curiosity long, and he asked a question as soon as they were beyond earshot of the camp.
"What do you mean to do, Frank?"
"Take a morning stroll," was the laughing reply. "It is good for one's health. Why, it's a regular tonic."
Bart was puzzled, for he knew Frank was not out for his health.