Janus had clattered down the rocks after the intruder. The guide's revolver began to speak. He was firing wildly, not being able to see the man, who either had got safely away, or else was in hiding behind one of the many rocks and projections. It did not seem as if he could have run down the mountainside at the rate he was going without falling and breaking his neck. The guide fired his revolver into every dark recess that he thought might afford a hiding place for the fugitive. Then he loaded up and emptied his revolver a second time.
By this time the camp was almost in a state of panic. Miss Elting spoke sharply to the girls, commanding them to stop their shouting and to come back.
"Mr. Grubb, if you keep on shooting you will have no ammunition left," the guardian warned him. "Besides, I would rather you wouldn't shoot any more. We don't know that this man is the one we suspect."
Janus broke his smoking revolver and ejected the exploded shells, after which he recharged the cylinder and put the weapon back in his pocket. He returned to the campfire, holding his hat in one hand, with the other hand brushing the perspiration from his forehead.
"Well, I swum!" he muttered. "I swum!"
"Harriet, we will hear your explanation. Why didn't you tell Mr. Grubb in time, so he could look after this fellow?" demanded Miss Elting. "You knew there was some one about some time before you got up and walked away, didn't you?"
"I thought I heard some one. That was the reason I strolled off by myself."
"So I supposed," commented the guardian.
"Had I said anything the person would have cried out and given the alarm. I wanted to satisfy myself that I was right, and I was."
"I should say you were!"