"He couldn't catch a prairie dog. There's only one man I'd like to
see on the job besides the bunch we've got here."
"Name him," cried several of the cowboys.
"Shorty Jenks."
"Why, that's our friend!" exclaimed Tom and Larry.
"I don't know about his being a friend of yours, but there's
nothing on two or four legs he's afraid of. And he's great on
tricks. He'd think up a scheme in no time to land Megget."
"I think Tom's idea is the right one," said Mr. Wilder. "By riding
that trail we can reach the Lost Lode probably in a few hours,
while it might take days to find where the gang that set fire rode
into the hills. This rain has cooled off the ground, so we can
start right away."
No direct command to pack the food and saddle up did the cowboys
need and as day dawned they again entered the Elkhorn River.
Tom had been provided with an extra rifle Mr. Wilder had been
carrying and great care did he and the other lads take to keep
their arms and ammunition from getting wet a second time.
Arrived at the top of the bank from which they had leaped to
safety, the party beheld a long stretch of blackened ground. As
far as they could see, it stretched away to the north and in width
it was about four miles.
"Why didn't it burn everything, instead of cutting a sort of path?"
asked Larry after a survey of the scene.
"That's one of the things you can't explain," replied the owner of
the Three Stars.
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