“There was something or other moving off yonder, and in this gully, too, where the creek used to run,” the scout explained. “I saw it just as it went behind a clump of rocks. Watch and see if it comes out on this side, fellows; over there, I mean.”
“Then it must have been heading this way, Don?” remarked Hugh.
“Which it surely was, and as it stands to reason that no wild animal, a fox or anything else, could have stuck it out through all that fire, I take it I must have seen—there, look!”
“Why, it’s certainly somebody coming this way!” ejaculated Bud, as they stood and stared.
“If that smoke would only blow away we could make out who it was,” muttered Don.
“We’ll soon know,” ventured Hugh. “He’s headed up the gully, you see.”
“I wonder now if it could be their daddy?” reflected Bud.
“Well, hardly,” the scout master told him. “He would be coming from our rear, heading for the Heffner place to find out if they knew anything of his babies. I’ve got an idea I could guess who it is.”
Just then the smoke did blow away and they could see the approaching figure very distinctly. It was a boy, and he was limping painfully along as though his feet had been bruised by the cruel stones. No sooner did the oldest child set eyes on that figure steadily drawing near and nearer than he burst out into a shrill cry.
“Peter, oh! Peter, here we all are!” was what he sent out; and at that, the bound boy forgot to limp as he started on a run toward them.