With one accord both lads waited a few minutes, but seeing no sign of the vanished Swede, it was agreed that Chip should take one side of the ridge and Paul the other, and at each mile of progress or thereabouts, should let each other know. If, meanwhile, one should strike the trail again he should call or go in search of the other.
Possibly Paul had gone a mile, when a rumbling, heavy voice halted him. No trail had he found, but–there was Anderson coming, having at last rounded the head of the slough.
"You find him yet?" meaning the vanished trail. "He bane go dis way?"
"No, we lost it on the ridge like we did before. Chip is looking for it on the other side of this slope. I hope he has better luck than us."
"Let's res' a leetle, Paul," and Nels slumped heavily down.
At this juncture came a faint call from the other side of the ridge. Paul jumped up again, saying:
"Come on, Mr. Anderson! That must be Chip. He's found something, for we agreed to let each other know, whichever came on anything first."
And Paul gave an answering shout, starting up the gentle rise of the rocky elevation, on top of which both trails had vanished.
"Alright–I bane coomin'," responded Nels as he wearily got up and tried to keep up with Paul's hasty steps, but soon gave that up. "I bane tired–all een–das w'at."
Young Slider had felt all along the keenest interest in the recovery of that stolen money. His dead father's participation therein probably kept him stimulated by a desire to show his new-found friends, the Auto Boys that he was worthy to be trusted.