"I'm glad he knows the position we are in," said the lad, with relief. "He may be able to help us in some way."
"Don't you worry, lad. Bruce will do all he can for you—he's that kind," said the sheriff kindly. "Now you had better all turn in and get a good night's rest. It will be a long hard trip in to-morrow."
All hands thanked the kind officer and retired to their tents, where they were soon fast asleep.
Chris, who, as usual, was the first one out in the morning, awakened the others with shouts of delight.
"Jim's coming," he cried in their ears. "Jim an' Mr. Bruce and that little man, Jones. They are within a half mile of camp."
CHAPTER XXXI.
MR. JONES BUYS THE OUTFIT.
The Americans came tumbling out of their tents just as Mr. Bruce, with his companions, rode into camp.
"No questions, no questions, until we have had something to eat," protested the lawyer good-humoredly, as our little party crowded around him. "We haven't had a bite to eat since yesterday noon. Just fill us up with something hot and tasty and we'll talk on anything you name. I am not going to say another word on an empty stomach, except to the sheriff here, and that only to tell him that I've got an order from the judge revoking that warrant he's got for all of you fellows, and that he might as well trot right back to town."