They were partly through with the meal when Dick returned. He looked very tired, although his voice was cheery as he greeted his companion of the trail.
"It's good to see you sitting there, Tom," he said, as he took the seat Nance had placed for him.
"It's the lassie who has done the trick, pard," and Tom jerked his head toward Nance. "She's the cause of my sudden return to health."
Nance's face flushed, not so much because of Tom's words as from the eyes of the young man, which were turned upon her with gratitude.
"Oh, I haven't done anything," she replied, as she poured out a cup of steaming tea for Dick. "It was the sleep that did it."
"Only partly, Miss; only partly," Tom rejoined. "Sleep an' food don't do everything toward makin' one feel that life is worth livin'. Ah, no. An old man like me knows a thing or two. But say," and he turned suddenly toward the young man across the table, "how did ye make out up stream, pard?"
An anxious expression came into Dick Russell's eyes. This passed almost instantly, however, although it did not escape Tom's searching look.
"I got along fairly well, and staked a claim at the very edge of some old diggings I found there. How the rest happened to overlook the place I cannot understand. But they are about crazy and hardly know what they are doing."
"Are they camping up there to-night?" Martin asked.
"I can't say that they are camping. They are there for the night, that's sure. But they've been rushing about like mad ever since they reached the place. They will spend the night on the ground just as they have been doing since leaving Rapid City. But their grub is about all gone. If they don't get some from the Indians they'll be in a bad fix."