"Didn't you have a torch?" questioned Allen.
"I did, but the water struck it and put it out."
"The darkness was what made the critter so bold," remarked Watson. "They're afeered o' fire, jes' like most o' wild beasts."
"Oh, my, we forgot Slavin!" burst suddenly from Allen's lips. "I'll wager a horse he has dusted out!"
"Ye're right," returned Watson, and began to make his way back to the camp fire with all speed, and with Allen close beside him. Noel was too weak to run and had to walk. He was still very white and his limbs trembled under him because of the unusual excitement.
The camp fire gained, it needed but a single glance around to convince them that Slavin had indeed gone.
"Took my shootin' iron, too, consarn him!" ejaculated Ike Watson. "What fools we wuz ter leave him yere alone!"
"We saved Noel's life by the operation," answered Allen.
"Thet's so, too, but——"
"You hate to see him get away. So do I, and—Look!"