He leaped the last few feet at the bottom, and raced down the trail. From the dimness of the woods, a strange pair staggered toward him—one ragged, stumbling ghost bearing another, a limp form in his arms, marching onward with the high valor that will not admit defeat.
“It’s Van Horn!” Ugly shouted joyfully. “Say, what’s the matter with Brick? We thought you guys were drowned, but Sagamore Carrigan wasn’t sure, and all the bunch has been huntin’ for you all day——” He broke off sharply, and rushed forward to support the tottering figures.
The young fire warden, who had only delayed in his tower to snatch a hot thermos bottle and a pair of blankets, came to his assistance, and together they knelt over the two exhausted wanderers where they had slipped to the ground.
Dirk felt himself lifted up. The steaming aroma of hot coffee was under his nose, and a strange voice was ordering him to drink. The hot fluid burned his tongue, but sent new life coursing through his veins.
He pushed away the mouth of the bottle, and sat up. “I’m all right,” he croaked. “Look after Brick. His ankle’s hurt pretty bad, and it got worse because we had to hike.”
“He’ll be all right,” came an answer. “The fire warden will fix him up pretty quick. Do you know me, Van? It’s Ugly Brown. Gee, this has sure been an exciting trip! I bet none of the other gangs that went on the Long Trail ever had as much fun as we’re havin’!”
“It may have been fun to you, Ugly, but Brick and I have had a tough time of it. Last night and today—I don’t want to think about it! Every minute we thought that half-breed Indian, Mink, was going to jump out on us and take us back to be held for ransom.”
The fire warden, who had been working over Brick and making him as comfortable as possible on a blanket, looked up from his task.
“I was sure that’s who it was, when the hut caught fire this morning,” he put in. “That is one bad Indian—or maybe I should say was. There’s a pretty good chance that he may not be in the land of the living tonight.”
Dirk sat up suddenly. “You mean—he was—killed?”