Frank was struck with the soft tones of the small chap, who did not look as if he could be much more than twelve years of age. His features were regular, if thin, and the big black eyes seemed to be filled with a courage beyond the ordinary. Indeed, they could not doubt this, having seen how he had drawn that small knife on finding himself confronted by the Rocky Mountain terror.
"Well, we were only too glad to have been of help to you, Lopez," Frank remarked, as he advanced with outstretched hand.
The boy looked embarrassed, as though hardly knowing what to do. It seemed to Frank that he had been staring very hard at Bob, and he wondered why. Then again he imagined that the boy must be keeping something back. This would account for the worried look on his small, pinched, but good-looking face.
But undoubtedly Lopez realized that it ill became him to decline to take the hand that had helped save his life.
"You understand that we are your friends, Lopez, don't you?" asked Frank, as he held the small palm of the Mexican in his own strong one for a moment, and looked with a puzzled expression into the big black eyes that quickly fell under his gaze.
"Oh, yes, Senor, surely you have proved it more than enough," the little fellow hastened to say; and Frank was astonished to hear what good language he used.
"You go across mountains, eh?" asked Bob, indifferently; truth to tell he was just then more interested in the size of the great grizzly that had fallen before the guns of himself and his saddle chum, than the mere fact of this stripling being entrusted with such a task as bringing supplies to prospectors, or rustlers, as the case might prove.
A flash crossed the face of the boy, just as though he saw a sudden opening whereby his presence here might be explained without entering into details.
"Oh! yes, across the range. I get supplies for prospectors in camp," he replied, with an intake of his breath, while he watched Bob narrowly, as if, somehow, he believed he had more to fear from that source than from the tawny-haired prairie lad.
"That's kind of queer, seems to me," remarked Bob, slowly, turning to again survey the boy; "for them to send so small a chap on so long a trail. I should think it was more of a man's work, toting supplies across these mountains, through the canyons. And with the chances of running foul of such dangers as bears, not to speak of rustlers."