They spent two days more tramping over the mountains after game. Will killed a fair-sized bear, Nat got a large deer, and Jack bowled over a great ram, that had a fine pair of horns, which our hero declared he was perfectly satisfied with, as they would appropriately fill a certain space on the wall of his room.
“And now,” he said, as they were gathered around the camp fire that night, “I think the outing of our gun club is almost at an end.”
“Got to go to Pryor’s Gap yet!” murmured Nat from the shadows, and the rest of them laughed.
The next day Long Gun started on his horse to take word to Tanker Ike that the boys were ready to come back. He was gone two days, which the lads put in by packing up, and taking little trips, not far from their camp. The third day the Indian returned with the freight wagon, driven by Ike, who also brought along an extra horse for Will.
“Well!” he exclaimed, “you certainly had great luck,” and he looked at the collection of skins and horns. “But it’s about time to go back. There’s a big storm coming, and it’ll be here soon.”
“We must take plenty of water this time, so if a tank springs a leak on the desert we won’t get thirsty,” said Sam.
“We’re not going to cross the desert,” spoke Jack.
“Why not?”
“Because we’re going back by way of Pryor’s Gap,” explained Jack boldly, and he did not heed the shouts of laughter that greeted his announcement. “We promised to call on Mr. Pierce, you know,” he added.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Pierce, with the accent on the Mister,” shouted Nat, and then he dodged behind the wagon to get out of Jack’s reach.