"I must say, I don't like this dividing up at all," remarked Fred, after a half-hour had passed. "First it was Sam and Dick, and now it is Tom. After a while none of us will know where any of the others are. Even the dog has left us." It may be added here that they never saw Wags again.
"Vell, you can't vos plame Tom for drying to find his brudders," came from Hans. "I vos do dot mineselluf, of I peen him."
"I hope Tom steers clear of trouble," said Songbird. "You know how he is—the greatest hand for getting into mischief."
The time dragged heavily on their hands, and when it grew dark not one of them felt like retiring. Songbird tried to put on a cheerful front, but it was a dismal failure, and nobody listened to the rhymes he made half under his breath. 230
At last came a whistle, repeated several times in rapid succession.
Then a form emerged out of the darkness.
"Who goes there?" shouted Fred.
"Hullo, boys!" was the answering cry, and James Monday came into the little clearing. "I was afraid I had lost my way."
"Didn't you see Tom?" they asked.
"Yes, I saw him—up to the ranch. He came with a letter, and that spoilt about everything, for it was a warning. They found out who he was through that Baxter and made him a prisoner. Then I had to sneak away, for I knew they were after me, too."
"Found out you wasn't me, eh?" put in Bill Cashaw. "Thought they might. That crowd is a clever one. Where's my wagon and horses?"