lanced round the camp for the Mexican and Bud and the fifth man, but
they were gone. Bill varied his occupation of the moment by kneading
biscuit dough in a basin. Then there came such a severe pain in my head
that I went blind for a little while. "What's the matter with my head?
Who hit me?" I cried.

"Bud slugged you with the butt of his pistol," said Dick. "And, Ken, I
think you saved me from being knifed by the Greaser. You twisted his
arm half off. He cursed all night.... Ha! there he comes now with your
outfit."

Sure enough, the Mexican appeared on the trail, leading my horses. I was
so glad to see Hal that I forgot I was a prisoner. But Greaser's sullen
face and glittering eyes reminded me of it quickly enough. I read
treachery in his glance.

Bud rode into camp from the other direction, and he brought a bunch of
horses, two of which I recognized as Dick's. The lumbermen set about
getting breakfast, and Stockton helped me to what little I could eat and
drink. Now that I was caught he did not appear at all mean or harsh. I
did not shrink from him, and had the feeling that he meant well by me.

The horses were saddled and bridled, and Dick and I, still tied, were
bundled astride our mounts. The pack-ponies led the way, with Bill
following; I came next, Greaser rode behind me, and Dick was between Bud
and Stockton. So we traveled, and no time was wasted. I noticed that the
men kept a sharp lookout both to the fore and the rear. We branched off
the main trail and took a steeper one leading up the slope. We rode
for hours. There were moments when I reeled in my saddle, but for the
greater while I stood my pain and weariness well enough. Some time in
the afternoon a shrill whistle ahead attracted my attention. I made out
two horsemen waiting on the trail.

"Huh! about time!" growled Bill. "Hyar's Buell an' Herky-Jerky."

As we approached I saw Buell, and the fellow with the queer name turned
out to be no other than the absent man I had been wondering about. He
had been dispatched to fetch the lumberman.

Buell was superbly mounted on a sleek bay, and he looked very much the
same jovial fellow I had met on the train. He grinned at the disfigured
men.

"Take it from me, you fellers wouldn't look any worse bunged up if you'd
been jolted by the sawlogs in my mill."

"We can't stand here to crack jokes," said Stockton, sharply. "Some
ranger might see us. Now what?"

"You ketched the kid in time. That's all I wa