"Here; look for yourself, Jack!" retorted Bob.
The big lad eagerly seized the field-glass and raised it to his eyes.
"I'm dreamin'—I know I'm dreamin'," he mumbled. "Next minute I'll wake up an' find myself in the cabin. Booney, is breakfast ready?"
"It's sartingly Lovell an' the Injun, when he gabs like that," commented Cap Slater. "Wal, if this hyar ain't nuff ter make a catfish act perlite to a cat I ain't never been scratched by a bramble!"
"Whoop!" cried Dick, delightedly. "Wonder what in thunder it all means?"
"Unk an' Wanna!" murmured Tim. "It—it—well, I give it up."
"Come ahead, fellows!"
Bob cracked his quirt, and the next instant the bronchos were galloping at a reckless rate over the uneven surface.
By degrees the two distant specks began to assume the familiar forms of Mr. Lovell and the aged warrior. Then a deep-throated bay rose above the sound of flying hoofs.
Bubbling over with joy and excitement, the boys gave a chorus of yells; again came a deep bay from the Great Dane, and an answering shout from Uncle Stanley.