“Why should anything have gone wrong?” propounded Charlie.
“I was thinking about Clymer and Plunkett. They left Rocky Gulch I heard about the same time Mr. Prawle went through the camp bound for Trinity.”
“Maybe one of us, you for instance, ought to go up to Trinity and see if word can be heard from Mr. Prawle. You might telegraph to Marysville to the smelters.”
“I’ll go if you say so.”
“I would. Meyer and I won’t be lonesome around here now.”
“All right. I’ll go to-morrow morning. You may expect me back by night.”
Hardly were the words out of his mouth before a horseman leading another animal dashed into the Pandora camp.
The boys hastened to meet him.
“Which of you is Jack Howard?” asked the stranger, who was a young, smoothly-shaven fellow, with a town air about him.
“That’s my name,” said Jack, stepping up. “Are you from Trinity?”