‘Give me the glasses,’ said Noke.
‘No need for that,’ said Jim Lee. ‘I can spot ’em from here.’
‘We must go and meet them,’ said Will Henton.
‘Right you are,’ said Brody. ‘Boys, we’ll have a terrible night of it.’
They mounted their horses, and in less time than it takes to write it down were galloping towards the home-comers.
The scene was one to be remembered. They sprang from their horses, and pulled Edgar and Will out of their saddles, and shook them by the hands, cheered and hallooed until the plain rang with their hearty shouts. Yacka stood quietly looking on, and when they had almost wrung Edgar’s and Will’s hands off they tackled him.
‘Don’t handle Yacka as roughly as you have handled us,’ laughed Edgar; ‘he’s got a bad wound.’
Then came a string of questions as to how Yacka received his wound, and who had given it him. Such a rain of questions was showered at them that at last Ben Brody said:
‘Give them breathing-time, lads. We shall hear all about their adventures later on. We’re right glad to see you back again safe and sound.’
A general chorus of assent followed this remark.