There was no answer to his call, and some minutes later he sat up again. This time he opened his eyes long enough to stare around him. He was on the ground, with a blanket partly over and partly under him. The place was new to him, showing that he had been moved while he slept.
"Where in the world am I?" was the next question he asked himself. "Where am I, and how did I get here?"
It was a good half hour before he could collect his scattered senses, and then he remembered how he had gone to sleep in the gully. He was now in the midst of some brushwood and a clump of tall pines. His ankles were bound together and his hands were crossed in front of him and also secured.
"Fred!" he called out. "Fred! Where are you?"
There was no answer, and now with an effort he struggled to his feet. But he was still too dizzy to stand and he had to hold on to the bushes for support.
"Fred must be somewheres around," he reasoned. "Unless they carried him off and left me here all alone. Oh, my head!" And then he sat down again.
But fortunately the weakness and dizziness did not last, and inside of half an hour his brain was as clear as ever. He gazed thoughtfully at the rope which bound his hands together in front of him. Then he began to chew on the rope with his teeth and finally got it loose. To liberate his ankles was his next move, and then he cut himself a heavy stick with his jackknife.
"Now let those chaps come near me again and I'll give them something they won't relish," he told himself.
For some time he did not know which way to turn. He noticed that the sun was fairly high in the heavens and he wondered what time it could be. His watch had stopped.
"I'd like to know if it is Friday afternoon or Saturday morning," he muttered. "What a situation to be in! How am I to get back to Lakeport? I'll never be able to get back in time to play that game!" And the latter thought made him fairly groan.