“Yes, it’s—” Bob began, when suddenly above the crackling of the fire a rifle shot rang out.
“Hark!” Jack cried, catching Bob by the arm. “That may be Kernertok.”
They waited with bated breath for a moment, and then, to their great joy, Kernertok’s voice reached them.
“Bob, Jack, you come out heap soon.”
“Heap soon is right,” Jack shouted, dancing about like a wild man. “I told you I had a hunch.”
In another minute Bob had withdrawn the bar and they were outside breathing the pure, cool air. Just on the edge of the clearing they saw Kernertok beckoning to them, and they lost no time in hastening to his side.
“You got here just in time, thank God,” Bob cried, as he grasped his friend’s hand.
“Heap little time spare,” Kernertok declared gravely.
“I’ll tell the world it was,” Jack cried. “But where are the breeds?”
“Come.”