“You come with us, Ocker, and you won’t regret it,” put in Jack hurriedly. “Show us the way to Cal Corning’s house.”
For an instant the man hesitated.
“If I take you back where you belong, you won’t have me arrested, will you?” he pleaded. “I don’t want to hurt you fellows, and I’d just as lief tell Mr. Rover what I know about Garrish.”
“You won’t be arrested,” answered Jack. “I’ll give you my word on it. Come—hurry up! We not only want to get back, but we want to have a chance to round those other fellows up.”
“But don’t do it before I’ve a chance to get away!” And the man’s face showed his sudden terror.
“All right, we’ll give you your chance, and we’ll make it worth your while, too,” answered Jack.
Ocker had been on foot, not daring to take his horse when he had stolen away from the Davenport crowd. He led the way to a broader and better trail, and less than half an hour later found the whole crowd on Sunset Trail. By this time the storm was passing and only a few scattering raindrops were coming down.
That tramp was one the Rover boys never forgot. Soaked to the skin, and so footsore they could scarcely walk, they reached Cal Corning’s place at about five o’clock in the morning. Their knock on the door brought Corning to that portal, gun in hand.
“Why—why, it’s the Rover boys!” called out the man, in amazement. “Hurrah! Mr. Rover! Mr. Rover! The boys are here, safe and sound!” he yelled.