"How can you know that?"
"I heard him moving about."
"In what direction?"
"Just beyond the ridge there. Hark! Didn't you hear it?"
"You are right," whispered Jack; "let's find out what it is."
Gun in hand, they moved stealthily up the slight ridge near by. It was only a few feet in height. Their experience had taught them that danger was likely to break upon them at any time, and they did not mean to be caught unprepared. Neither spoke as they cautiously climbed the ridge, like a couple of Indian scouts on the alert for the first appearance of peril.
But they reached the crest of the slight elevation without having heard anything more of that which had alarmed them. The next moment, however, both caught the dim outlines of a large animal moving slowly from them. Before they were certain of its identity the creature neighed, as if frightened by the stealthy approach of the youths.
"It's a horse!" exclaimed Fred, who, suspecting the whole truth, moved over the ridge and called, in a coaxing voice:
"Dick! Come here, Dick!"
The animal stopped, looked inquiringly around, and then came forward with a pleased whinny. He was Fred's pony, and, brief as their acquaintance had been, recognized his voice. Fred stroked his nose and patted his neck, and the horse showed his pleasure at receiving the endearments.