“Just what I say!” echoed Josh.
“And I!” came from every one of the others, without even the exception of poor Billy, who seemed to feel that he might be mostly to blame because the raid on the camp had been conducted while he was in charge.
Tom smiled on hearing so unanimous an expression of opinion. He knew that even such an apparent catastrophe as had befallen them was not going to cause these gallant fellows to “take water.”
“How long ago was it that the raid took place, Billy?” asked Josh, as though a sudden idea had struck him.
“Oh! I should say about an hour or more,” replied the other, after thinking it over. “I suppose they watched the camp for a while to make sure I was the only one around. Then when they saw me so busy down there by the pond they just started to root. They may have been poking around half an hour, for all I know; I was keeping my eyes on my work and thinking of poor Walter.”
“Tom, would it pay us to follow them right now?” demanded Josh, while his eyes sparkled with the spirit of retaliation, as though he could picture them pouncing on the spoilers of the camp, and making them pay dearly for their frolic.
The patrol leader, however, shook his head in the negative, much to the disappointment of the impetuous Josh.
“In the first place they were apt to hurry off,” said Tom. “Then they might even try to blind their trail, though I don’t believe any of them know much of the Indian way of doing that. But the sun will soon set, and it grows dark early along the northeast side of Big Bear Mountain you know.”
“Yes,” added George, always ready with an objection, “and some of us feel a little tired after all we’ve gone through with to-day.”
“We’d better leave that until Mr. Witherspoon joins us in the morning,” concluded Tom. “Of course that wouldn’t prevent a couple of scouts following the trail a bit while breakfast was cooking, and saving us that much trouble later on.”