"Got to hurry," thought Nat, mending his pace once more, but to his dismay, as he stepped forward, his foot slipped on a sharp-edged rock, and with a wrench of sharp pain he realized that he had twisted his ankle. The sprain, judging by the pain it gave him, seemed to be a severe one, too.
"Wow!" thought Nat, sinking back upon another rock and nursing his foot, "that was a twister and no mistake. Wonder if I can get back on foot. Guess I'll rest a minute and see if it gets any better."
The boy had sat thus for perhaps five minutes when there came a sudden rustling in the brush before him. At first he did not pay much attention to it, thinking that a rabbit, or even a deer might be going through. Suddenly the noise ceased abruptly. Then it came again. This time it was louder and it sounded as if some heavy body was approaching.
"Great Scott!" was the sudden thought that flashed across the boy's mind, "what if it's a bear!"
He had good cause for alarm in such a case, for he had nothing more formidable with which to face it but his fishing rod. But the next moment the boy was destined to receive even a greater shock than the sudden appearance of a grizzly would have given him.
The shrubs before him suddenly parted and the figure of a man in sombrero, rough shirt and trousers, with big boots reaching to his knees, stepped out.
"Ed. Dayton!" gasped Nat looking up at the apparition.
"Yep, Ed. Dayton," was the reply, "and this time, Master Nat, I've got you where I want you. Boys!"
He raised his voice as he uttered the last word.