Larry was following the edge of grass as they drew near the place where the fire had been started. As his eyes roved over the billowy plains, they suddenly were attracted by a peculiar furrow that seemed to run through the grass like a channel.
For the moment he was tempted to call the attention of the others to it, and then, fearing their ridicule, decided to find out what it was first.
Accordingly he reined his pony to one side and was approaching the furrow when he was startled to hear a cry of delight:
"I've got it! I've got it!"
Hastily unslinging his rifle, the elder of the chums pointed it in the direction whence the unexpected voice had come and shouted:
"You there, in the grass! Stand up before I count five or I'll——"
But Larry had no occasion to complete his command.
Unconscious that there was another soul within miles of him, the person addressed raised his head cautiously to see who had accosted him.
"Stand up straight, I said!" ordered the boy.
As the fellow obeyed, Mr. Wilder, Pete and the others, who had been almost as surprised at hearing Larry's words as the prisoner himself, dashed up, quickly followed by the cowboys.