Amos Radbury shook his head slowly. The party had been out in the timber two days, and, though they had followed several trails, it had availed them nothing.
"Perhaps Ralph went back to the ranch," suggested Poke Stover.
"We found no trail leading in that direction," said Lieutenant Radbury.
"That is true, but he might have gone back, even so, leftenant."
Amos Radbury shook his head slowly. "You only wish to give me a little encouragement, Poke," he said, with a sad smile. "I am afraid he has fallen into the hands of the Indians."
"Talk about Indians, here come several Indians now," put in Dan, who was riding beside his father. "They look like Comanches, too."
The red men, who were three in number, had appeared at the brow of a small hill. Now, on discovering the whites, they seemed on the point of turning to run away.
One, however, gave the Texans a searching look, and then his face lit up with satisfaction. He came running toward Dan, holding up both hands in token of peace.
"Big Foot!" exclaimed the youth, as he recognised the Indian.
"Good Dan," answered the Indian. "I glad I see you. How! How!" and he looked at Amos Radbury and the others.