"How fortunate we are to have him with us now!" exclaimed Bob.
"So we all thought," went on Mr. Harkness. "When he had learned what was the trouble, O'Mara immediately made us all keep back until he could closely examine the vicinity of the spring."
"He was looking for the tracks of the kidnappers," remarked one of the hunters.
"Truly, it was a fortunate thing that so clever a trailer should have come into the settlement just when his services were so desperately needed," said another, who knew the Irish trapper's worth.
"O'Mara quickly found the imprint of many moccasins," resumed the settler. "He could tell just how Kate had been suddenly seized by an Indian, who crept up behind while she was stooping beside the spring. Her bucket was found in the bushes, just where the cunning rascals had hidden it, so as to make her mother think she had wandered away in search of butterflies, or to visit some favorite nook where she might be watching a late brood of young quail."
"But you said that, after the cry, our mother saw Kate moving about?" Bob ventured to remark, in puzzled tones.
"That was only another of the crafty schemes of the redskins," replied Mr. Harkness. "O'Mara showed us how one of her captors must have taken her shawl, and, throwing it over his head, showed just enough of himself to deceive the mother. They were evidently afraid lest her one cry might have been heard."
"Please finish," burst out the fretting Sandy; "for I am just wild to rush away home, so as to take up the trail. Is Pat O'Mara waiting for us to come in, so that we may all start out together?"
"Not so," came the quick response. "As soon as he found out positively what had come to pass, the trapper vowed he would himself pursue the fleeing Indians, and bring back the child of his friend, David Armstrong."