“Yes,” was the reply. “Some one sent up a Boy Scout help signal in the forest below here, and the boys must have gone to see what it meant. The half-breeds were wandering around there and captured them, but the boys got away by some trick or other and took to the mountain.”
Jimmie stood looking at Ned with a shamed face.
“Say!” he said, “I made that Boy Scout signal, just before those ginks started to march me off to the old mission. I never thought our boys would take any notice of it. I guess I’m to blame for all this trouble, Ned. I must be getting awful dense, never to remember that our boys were looking for just such signs at the time I left the camp.”
“I saw the signal,” Norman said, “and answered it. I was cooking in front of Toombs’ tent when the two columns of smoke showed and I built another fire on the plea that I needed two to cook the dinner. The fires didn’t make much smoke, so I soaked some of the wood I put on.”
“And I saw your signal, too,” Jimmie explained, “and started toward it. That’s the time the half-breeds gave me the pinch.”
“Now,” said Ned, turning to Norman, “we’re going to leave Gilroy, the man who mistook you for a burglar, here to watch the camp while we go to the assistance of the boys. I don’t think you’d better go with us. We may come upon a bunch of the outlaws and have to fight. If with us, you would be recognized and that would end your usefulness so far as we are concerned.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you any more,” Norman said hesitatingly. “It would be terrible if the news got back to New York that I had turned traitor to Toombs. I can’t endure the thought!”
“What would happen?” asked Jimmie. “Why don’t you speak plainly?”
“I can’t tell you what would happen,” the boy answered. “It is something I don’t even dare think about.”
“Then of course you can’t afford to accompany us to the Devil’s Punch Bowl,” Ned said, “and I was about to suggest that you remain here with Gilroy for a short time after our departure.”