The hunter did not answer the question in words. He drew his revolver and held it off at arm's length, as if he were taking aim at something, at the same time digging his heels into the sides of his horse, which sprang away at the top of his speed.
When Eben was out of sight, the emigrant stepped upon the wagon-tongue and called to Frank:
"Look here, neighbor," he exclaimed, "that man says you robbed him! How is that?"
"There isn't a word of truth in it," replied Frank. "He never had his hands on the money I've got in my pocket. Did you take a good look at him? Well, now take a good look at me, and make up your mind which of us you would rather believe."
"There's something in that," said the emigrant. "You look like an honest boy, and I hope you be. You'd best stay in there a spell, I reckon. That feller may come back after a while, and if he gets his eye on you, I am afraid it will go hard with you. I'll hand you in a bite to eat."
The emigrant stepped down from the wagon-tongue, and when he came back again, he placed in Frank's hand a tin plate, containing a piece of bacon and corn-bread, and a quart cup filled with coffee. He and his family ate their breakfast while seated around the fire.
When the meal was over, the mules were hitched to the wagon, the woman and her children climbed in, and the emigrant mounted his seat and drove off.
They had not been on the trail more than two hours before Frank, who was constantly on the watch, discovered Eben coming back. The instant he caught sight of him he made a dash for his hiding-place, and the emigrant and his wife covered him up with the quilts.
There was no need of all this trouble, however, for the hunter never looked toward the wagon as he galloped by, and only shook his head sullenly when the emigrant asked him if he had found the boy of whom he was in search.