But Lige Thomas was firm.
"You'll be that lame, to-morrow, you can't reach a stirrup. I want you to be fit, for we have a long journey ahead of us."
Walter soon fell into a deep sleep, while Tad and Ned, too full of the events of the night to go to sleep at once, sat by the camp fire discussing the stirring scenes through which they had so recently passed, until the deep, rhythmic snores of Stacy Brown reminded them that they, too, should seek their pine bough cots if they intended to get any more rest that night.
Next morning the camp slept late in spite of itself—that is, all save Lige Thomas. He was up with the sun, busying himself with getting the outfit ready for a prompt start.
At nine o'clock the guide routed them out, and the boys, after washing themselves in the cool, refreshing waters of a little mountain stream, announced themselves as ready to eat anything that might be placed before them.
Walter, still pale from his recent experience, but smiling happily, took his place with the rest and ate as heartily as they did of the crisp bacon that Jose had prepared.
"Now that you young gentleman are all together, it's a good time to give you some advice," said Lige.
"Guess I'm the one who needs it most," laughed Walter.
"He's had his already," chuckled Chunky Brown.
"But yours is still coming to you," added Ned maliciously.