Continuing in the direction which he had been following for several rods, Lige turned and made a sweeping detour, fanning the ground with his torch, as he picked his way carefully along.
"Wh—wha—what do you find?" breathed the Professor as Lige turned and came back to them.
"Nothing."
"Nothing? What does that mean?"
"That the boy's not here. That's all."
"Not—here!" marveled the three lads, and even that was a distinct relief to them. If Walter had not been dashed to death on the rocks at the bottom of the gulch, then there still was hope that he might be alive. However, this faint hope was shattered by Lige Thomas's next remark.
"The body may have caught on a root somewhere up the mountain side," he added. "I am afraid we shall have to go back and wait for daylight. But we'll see what can be done. I don't want to give it up until I am sure."
"Sure of what?" asked the Professor.
"That the boy is dead. Look!" exclaimed the guide, fairly diving to the ground, and rising with a round stone in his hand. He held it up almost triumphantly for their inspection.
But his find failed to make any noticeable impression upon either the boys or Professor Zepplin. They knew that in some mysterious way it must be connected with the loss of their companion, though just how they were at a loss to understand.