It was clearly time for the boys to leave the place and they watched and listened for Tom’s beginning of the retreat. At last they heard him moving and, assuming that he had begun the withdrawal, they all cautiously crept away to the rear. As each was following a separate trail there was no word spoken among them until Larry, Dick and Cal came out of the bushes and joined each other at the gum tree.
“But where is Tom?” one of them asked.
Nobody knew. Nobody had seen or known anything about him since his first stirring of the bushes had set the retreat in motion. They had all heard a commotion in what they called “the scoundrels’ camp,” with sounds as of angry quarreling and fighting; but they had heard nothing of Tom.
The boys were in consternation.
“Do you suppose those scoundrels can have caught him?” asked Dick, with horror in his tones.
“I don’t know,” Larry answered through his set teeth. “But there’s only one thing to do.”
“Only one thing,” answered Dick. “We must go to his assistance, and if they have him prisoner we must rescue him or all die trying. I for one will never come back alive unless we bring him with us.”
“That’s of course,” said Cal, who for once spoke crisply, wasting no words. “Wait a second, Larry! How many cartridges have you—each of you?”
When they answered, Cal said:
“Here, take six more apiece. You may need ’em.”