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I kind of laughed when I felt it in my hands I reckon I was some daffy with the sensation of excitement. "Herky, old boy," I says to it, as I flipped over the pages, "you ain't ever lied to me yet, and you ain't ever throwed me down at a scratch yet. Tell me what, old boy, tell me what!" says I. I turned to "What to do in Case of Accidents," on page 117.
Remembering how he had nearly drowned me in the spring, I resented his sudden change. He could not do enough for me. I asked the reason for my sudden popularity. Herky scratched his head and grinned. "Yep, kid, you sure hev riz in my estimashun." "Hey, you rummy cow-puncher," broke in Bud, scornfully. "Mebbe you'd like the kid more'n you do if you'd got one of them wollops."
From that I gathered Herky was taking the saddle off his horse. "Here, Leslie, I'll untie you if you'll promise not to bolt." That voice was Buell's. I would have known it among a thousand. And Dick was still a prisoner. "Bolt! If you let me loose I'll beat your fat head off!" replied Dick. "Ha! A lot you care about my sore wrists. You're weakening, Buell, and you know it.
It was close by. I answered, and heard heavy steps. I peered through the smoky haze. Something dark moved up in the gloom. "Ho, kid! Thar you are!" I felt a strong arm go round my waist. "Wal, wal!" That was Herky. His voice sounded glad. It roused a strange eagerness in me; his rough greeting seemed to bring me back from a distance. "All wet, but not burned none, I see.
He warned Greaser and Herky to keep close watch over Dick and me. Then he rode away. Dick and I resumed our talk about forestry, and as we were separated by the length of the cave it was necessary to speak loud. So our captors heard every word we said. "Ken, what's the difference between Government forestry out here and, say, forestry practiced by a farmer back in Pennsylvania?" asked Dick.
Herky mounted the one horse left, a sorry-looking pack-pony, and we started down the ravine. An hour of steady descent passed by before we caught sight of any burned forest land. Then as we descended into the big canyon we turned a curve and saw, far ahead to the left, a black, smoky, hideous slope.
"Who does this stuff belong to, anyhow?" Buell was saying. "An' what was thet bear doin' in here?" "He was roped up hyar's the hitch," answered Bud. "An' hyar's a rifle Winchester ain't been used much. Buell, it's thet kid's!" I heard rapid footsteps and smothered exclamations. "Take it from me, you're right!" ejaculated Buell. "We jest missed him. Herky, them tracks out there?
Once, while they were talking, I happened to catch Herky-Jerky's eye. He was lying on his back in the light from the door. Herky winked at me, screwed up his face in the most astonishing manner, all of which I presently made out to mean that he wanted to speak to me. So I went over to him. "Kid, you ain't a-goin' to fergit I stalled off Buell?" whispered Herky.
I cut the men loose, and we made up across the ridge, got lost, surrounded by fire, and then I got Herky to help me start a back-fire in that big canyon." "Back-fire!" exclaimed Dick, slamming the table with his big fist. Then he settled down and looked at me. Hiram looked at me. Jim looked at me, and not one of them said a word for what seemed a long time. It brought the blood to my face.
Both of you went to sleep take thet from me!" "Wal, he's gone, an' he took the kid's gun with him," said Bill, coolly. "Now we'll be dodgin' bullets." Dick Leslie had escaped! I could hardly keep down a cry of triumph. I did ask if it was true, but none of them paid any attention to me. Buell then ordered Herky-Jerky to trail Dick and see where he had gone. Herky refused point-blank. "Nope.
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