rt sank within him as he reviewed the
situation. Where he was he could not tell, nor could he form any
definite plan for rejoining his cousin and old Benson. More than this,
he was afraid that the desperadoes might come up at any minute and
pounce upon him.

But as the minutes slipped by, and he neither saw nor heard anything of
those in pursuit, he grew easier. Evidently they had given up the chase.

"I hope they have," was what he thought. "I never want to get so close
to them again. They are a hard crowd, if ever there was one. If I can
get to the fort and tell Colonel Fairfield of what I've heard, I'll be
doing a good thing."

An hour went by slowly, and then Joe looked around to find some means of
making himself comfortable for the balance of the night, knowing it
would be useless to pursue his course through the forest in the
darkness.

"This is camping out with a vengeance!" he muttered grimly. "Darry ought
to be along; I guess he'd soon get enough of it. I'll be lucky if I
don't fall in with some savage animal."

The thought of wild beasts gave him another shiver, and he concluded to
climb into a nearby tree, which was low-drooping and had a spot where
several branches made a sort of platform. He was soon up in a
comparatively dry place, and here he fell asleep, being too tired to
hold his eyes open longer.

When Joe awoke the storm had cleared away and the sun was struggling
through the scattering clouds. The forest still dripped with the rain,
and with this dripping were mingled the songs of the birds and the hum
of insects.

Stiff from the wet, he climbed slowly to the ground and looked around.
On every side were the tall trees and the dense undergrowth, shutting
off the distant view of everything but a towering mountain to the
westward. This was the mountain he and the others had been ascending
when the storm had overtaken them.

"I suppose I may as well head in that direction," he mused. "If I can
strike the trail that will be something. But I'll have to keep my eyes
open, or I may fall into the hands of that Gilroy gang."

He was hungry, but there were no means at hand with which to satisfy the
cravings of his stomach, and so he had to move forward without eating.

Getting into the forest had been difficult, but getting out was even
more of a task. The underbrush at certain points was positively
impassable, and he had to make long detours, which took time and tired
him greatly. At noon he was