"Where?" asked Dick, who was gazing off across the range, his eyes intently focused on a small, moving object that did not seem to be either a cow or a horse.
"Up there where we found old Tosh making the witches' broth," and Nort
looked closely at his brother to see what was attracting his attention.
"I mean in Smugglers' Glen," went on Nort, for Dick had not turned.
"What you looking at?" suddenly demanded Nort.
"Why, I thought—I saw—" Dick was speaking in a preoccupied manner, his gaze still fixed on that small, dark object.
Then, so suddenly that it startled all of them, as they sat on their mounts, with back turned toward the defile, there came from the glen a noise. It was a noise of stones rattling one against the other.
Like a flash all turned from observing the object that had caught
Dick's eyes, and the reason for the stone-rattling noise was explained.
It was caused by some one walking unsteadily out of the defile, and the
person who was walking was—Bud Merkel!
For a moment the searchers could scarcely believe that they really saw the missing youth. But as he came nearer it was only too evident.
"Bud!" cried Nort and Dick in a duet as they spurred their horses forward. "Bud!"
"By gosh! 'Tis him!" roared Yellin' Kid.
"But he's 'bout done up!" commented Billee Dobb as he, with Kid, urged his pony forward. "What happened?"
It was obvious that something serious had taken place. Bud was hardly able to walk, and was supporting himself by leaning on a tree branch as a sort of cane or crutch. But his face brightened in the rising sun as he beheld his friends coming toward him.