Again Ree’s mind gained the mastery over his fatigued body and his powerful determination seemed again to drive the weariness away. He stooped and stroked but once or twice the dead horse’s damp foretop, then hastened to the cart. Nothing in it had been disturbed. He looked carefully about the shelter of poles and brush which had been built, and found everything in comparatively good order. Surely things would not be in this state if his friends had been driven off or killed by Indians. It must be that they were attacked, had repulsed the enemy and had now gone in pursuit.
But why had they not returned? There was no doubt but that old Jerry had been dead at least a day, and John and Tom would, in that case, have been absent nearly as long.
With feverish anxiety Ree searched for a trail which would show the direction taken by the enemy or his friends, or both, but the sound of a stealthy footstep on the bank above caused him to spring to the shelter of a tree.
As he watched and listened, he heard voices, and quietly stepped into the open; for he would have known John’s tones among ten thousand. And at the same minute John and Tom Fish saw Ree gazing up at them, and both ran toward him, John crying excitedly: “Return Kingdom! Oh, but I am glad to see you!”
“Dutch rum an’ fire-water, it’s happy I am y’er back!” Tom Fish exclaimed.
“What has happened, John?” asked Ree in his usual quiet way, grasping his friend’s hand.
“What ain’t happened? It beats me as I ain’t ever been beat yet,” Tom Fish made answer.
“It was another of those mysterious shots, Ree—the very morning you left us,” said John, putting his hand affectionately on his chum’s arm.
“Another?” Ree spoke more to himself than to either John or Tom, and something made him think of Big Pete Ellis and the fellow’s threats.
“It was the same sort of a shot as before, but in broad daylight,” John answered. “We had just got the cart down into this gully and were preparing to get it up the other side, when we heard a rifle shot and—old Jerry fell dead. I saw the smoke curling out from the bushes just half a minute later, and Tom and I both ran back up the hill. But there was no one near. We did find a trail but it was mingled with the tracks of the horse and cart, and the snow being gone, we could not follow it. For miles around the woods seemed as quiet as a Sunday at home. We looked all about but—”