Greatly to the astonishment of the lad when he had come near enough to distinguish the faces of the men, he saw that the leader of the little party was none other than Kit Carson himself. How it was that the trapper and guide was so far south of the region into which he with his company originally had gone Reuben did not understand. There was no question, however, as to the person before him, and he was greatly pleased when a moment later the guide said to him: “You are Reuben Benton. The last time I saw you was in Pain Court. What are you doing out here on the plains?”
By this time Reuben had been admitted within the circle. The glances of suspicion which were given him when first he had appeared were gone as soon as the leader explained that he personally knew the young trapper.
“I came out here with Jean,” explained Reuben.
“Jean? Jean who?” inquired Kit Carson.
“Jean Badeau.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I say. I don’t know where he is. I wish I did. We came out here day before yesterday. We made a camp, and while we were there a herd of buffaloes came along and Jean and I started after them. I haven’t seen him since.”
“He may have been trampled by the herd,” suggested Kit Carson.