All through the night the little party had sat up anxiously awaiting the return of their companion, who had set out after the bear. The tent had been ruined, but they found that the rifles had not been harmed at all, having been stacked in front of the small tents.
Early in the morning the three boys and Professor Zepplin had followed Tad's trail for some distance into the foothills, but feared to penetrate too far for fear of getting lost. The Professor reasoned that it would be much better to return to camp and give Tad a chance to find his way in in case he himself should prove to have been lost.
This the boys had done, but they were impatient to be doing something more active. Ned Rector was fairly fuming, because their guardian would not permit him to set out alone in search of the missing boy.
"No," the Professor had said; "if I did that with all of you, we should have the whole party scattered over the mountains and it is doubtful if we should all get together again before snow flies."
Yet when Tad's pony came trotting back to camp, the matter took on a more serious aspect. Something must be done and at once.
"Now, will you let me go, Professor?" begged Ned.
"Not in those mountains alone, if that is what you mean."
"Then what can we do?"
"If the guide were only here!" interjected Walter. "Do you suppose I could find him?"
"It will be useless to try, my boy. About the only course we can follow now, is that leading back to Forsythe, and I am not sure that we shouldn't be lost doing that."