When at length they were ready to turn in, they rolled themselves up in their blankets and formed a circle about the fire.
Without adventure they passed the night, sleeping till long after sunrise, there being no occasion for getting an early start.
Indeed as they ate breakfast they were debating whether to push on or stay where they were and set a bear trap when they were surprised to hear Mr. Wilder's name called.
Shouting in return, they jumped to their feet, trying to see who had hailed them.
"It's some one on horseback. I can hear the click of horseshoes on the stones," declared Larry.
"Some one from the ranch probably," asserted Mr. Wilder, and the next moment his opinion was confirmed by Horace, who had run to the trail and was returning, yelling:
"It's Nails! It's Nails!"
"He's one of our boys," explained Bill to the chums. "What do you suppose he can want, father?"
"Wait till he tells us. There are so many possibilities, it's no use trying to guess."
Their suspense was short-lived, for in a few moments the cowboy called Nails dashed into the basin, his pony in a lather.