His arrival awakened the others, and Ken built up the fire, which provided a flickering light in the cabin.
“Where’s Ranier?” Warner demanded.
“That yellow dog deserted me,” Walz muttered, collapsing onto the bed of pine boughs.
“You quarreled?” the rancher guessed.
“Yes,” Walz admitted sullenly. “I made it here after he left me at the pass. The thief took my food. I’m half starved.”
It was evident that the motel owner had suffered severely on the trail. Despite their intense dislike for the man, the Scouts could not help feeling sorry for him.
Mr. Livingston brewed him a cup of strong tea and used the last of the flour to make pancakes for him. Walz ate ravenously.
“Why did Ranier turn back?” Warner asked when the motel owner had finished eating. “You say you quarreled?”
“Almost constantly. He said I wasn’t paying him enough for the risk of the trip, and that I wasn’t doing my share of the camp work. Then we came to the pass—”
“And the bear skeleton?” Jack suggested.