"'Bout five miles, mebbe a little more."
"So far as that?"
"Yep, and I reckon we'd better be makin' tracks. My horse is 'bout two miles back. Couldn't get him any further."
They started at once, Slats leading and the others following close at his heels.
"How did you know where to find me?" Bob asked after they had covered perhaps a mile.
"Didn't know. Jest went it blind."
"Well, I never was more glad to see anyone."
"Reckon not."
Soon they reached the place where Slats had left his horse and he insisted on Bob riding. But he refused as did Royce and the argument ended with them all going on foot, Slats leading the animal. It was about ten o'clock when they struck the trail not far from where Bob had left his horse.
"You wait here till I get Satan," Bob said as he turned down the trail.