It was Rex’s voice, and his heart gave a leap as he ran to the side of the bunk.
“Rex.”
“Who are you? It can’t be, but by jove it is, Bob Golden.”
“Sure is,” Bob said.
“But, how in the world, did—,” Rex began, but Bob interrupted him.
“We came to find you. Jack’s outside watching.”
Then, he saw that Rex was tied hand and foot to the bunk.
“When did you get here?” Rex asked.
“It was nearly an hour ago, I guess. We watched till we saw somebody leave the cabin and then I went round back and found the path and, and here I am,” and Bob, having taken his knife from his pocket while he was talking, started to cut the rope with which Rex was bound.
“Hold on a minute,” the latter cautioned him before he had time to use the knife. “I don’t think you’d better do that, not now. If Parry, he’s the half-breed you saw, should come back and find you here there’d be the deuce to pay. He probably won’t be back for an hour or more but you can never tell.”