“What is it, Tom?” he called.
“We can see a chap riding in the distance!” cried Tom, excitedly.
“Gee whiz! That’s interesting!” exclaimed Sam Randall. “Maybe it’s one of those fellows who serenaded us last night.”
To Sam’s great astonishment, Bob Somers, without replying, made a wild dash for the door. His eyes quickly ran over the tethered horses.
“Just what I was afraid of!” he cried, breathlessly.
Larry Burnham’s mount was missing.
“Suffering grasshoppers!” burst out Sam, staring with wide-open eyes. “He—he—has actually skipped!”
“Hurry up, Bob,” came from Tom. “Get your field-glass on him. He’s only a tiny speck now.”
“Outwitted!” grumbled Sam.
Bob Somers did not wait to listen. Leaping up the steps which led to the second floor he rushed into the room where the two lads were standing by the open window.