“Something has gone wrong with the poor fellow, and what can I do to help him?”
CHAPTER XV.
CAUGHT FOUL.
NICK RIBSAM was partly right in his supposition about his missing friend, Herbert Watrous.
That young gentleman rode along the lower trail, as confident as anyone could be that he was right and Nick was wrong. He did not press Jill, for the pony had done considerable hard riding during the day, but he arrived at the end of his brief journey a little in advance of the other.
“I knew it,” he said at the moment of catching sight of the pool of clear water, which, like the spring, was slightly to the right of the path; “there aren’t many brighter boys than Nick, but he makes his mistake once in a while, like other folks.”
And then, as his pony walked forward to drink, his rider gave out the signal intended to summon Nick to the spot.