"Can't tell, he may have ridden through there and then taken a sudden turn to the right or left. Or back again, for that matter. Well, let's get started."
As the two arrived at the agreed meeting place there was no need to ask the others if they had had any luck. The Kid was nowhere in sight.
"We saw a trail through some bushes that might have been made by the Kid, Billee," said Nort to the old rancher.
"Yes, and it might have been made by any number of other things, too," Billee declared, in a despondent tone. "Not that I am sure it wasn't the Kid's trail. It might have been—but that doesn't help us much. No, I guess the only thing for us to do is to go right on lookin'—and hopin' he's O.K."
It was almost dusk when the four gathered together again. The Kid was still missing, and anxiety was written on the faces of all as they prepared to camp for the night. Each man carried a blanket with him, and also a small snack of food and a canteen of water. As darkness settled down a fire was started, and huddled in their blankets the boy ranchers prepared to make the best of it.
The silence of the night hung close over the four blanketed figures. The firelight threw weird shadows about them, but above the stars shone calmly on, quietly reassuring. A light breeze rustled softly through the mesquite bushes. Now and then a coyote yowled in the distance.
Suddenly Bud jerked upright. He nudged Dick, who was lying beside him.
"Dick!" he whispered, so as not to disturb the others, "do you hear anything?"
"Eh? What? What's that? You speak to me?" Dick muttered sleepily.
"Listen! Can't you hear a noise like a horse walking?"