“But don’t you think we ought to wait for Toma and Corporal Rand?”
“If we do, we’ll be apt to lose trace of them, just as we lost trace of Creel. You must remember that we’ll have to follow them on foot. They have horses.”
Sandy said no more, lapsing into a moody silence. The mosquitos continued to buzz around their heads. But no longer was it cool. The sun, an hour high, shed its warm rays to every part of the land. The moisture, caused by the dew, was soon evaporated. Day had commenced.
Yet they waited a long time before they were rewarded for their patience. Smoke curled upward from the rough mud-chimney at the road-house. Now and again, they could see someone walking about outside. Another long wait, and they breathed a sigh of relief. Three mounted ponies came out around one end of the cabin and headed down the trail. A few minutes more, and they were out of sight.
“Thank goodness!” Sandy breathed thankfully, parting the screen of brush in front of him and stepping out into the open. “I thought they’d never go. Come on, Dick—breakfast!”
Dick hurried after Sandy, and it was not long before they pushed open the door of the cabin and entered. Meade was there, and at sight of them, sprang to his feet. He came forward quickly.
“Where in the name of Old Harry have you boys been? We missed you last night; looked everywhere. I wondered if you hadn’t gone suddenly crazy.”
“We didn’t want to meet Burnnel and Emery,” explained Sandy.
“You mean those two men, who stopped here last night?”
“Yes.”