“The Man from Seattle!” cried the girls. Elfreda was at his side instantly.
“Is he wounded?” she asked.
“I think not,” replied the guide.
“See if he has any peanuts with him,” advised Stacy Brown.
“Stacy!” Hippy’s voice was stern, and the fat boy subsided.
A quick examination by White and Miss Briggs failed to reveal any wounds. They brought water, and Elfreda bathed Haley’s face, which, though bloody, was only scratched, probably by contact with bushes. It took but a short time to revive him, his trouble being almost wholly exhaustion. Grace hastened to make a pot of tea, which Haley gulped down and instantly recovered himself.
“Sorry I lost my samples, or I’d not have been in this shape,” he said, grinning.
“What happened to you?” Hippy asked.
“Same old story. The mountain ruffians wanted peanuts, so they tackled me. One taste of the International’s product and men will commit murder to get more of it. I threw away all I had, and they’re picking them up along the trail. It was the only way I could get rid of the scoundrels. Then I got into more trouble. A pack of wolves got the scent of the peanuts and they tackled me, too, but I hadn’t any of the International’s product to throw to them, so I had to run for it. They chased me nearly all the way in. ‘Good for man and beast’ is the slogan that I shall send on to the International for use in their publicity matter.”
The girls were now laughing heartily, but, as they recalled the manner of Haley’s leaving them, they subsided abruptly. Haley’s now merry eyes caught the significance of the change.