him," said Dan to himself, and as soon as his father was a little better he set out on his hunt.
He had not made many inquiries, when he learned that Carlos Martine was dead, having been shot down while trying to escape across the open prairie, and the body had already been put away.
"But what of the dead—were the things in their pockets buried with them?" asked Dan of one of the Texan guards.
"No, their pockets were emptied, and everything found was turned over to the quartermaster," was the reply, and then the youth went to the officer named and told him of Martine and of the missing papers.
"Here is a lot of stuff, Radbury. You can look it over and see if there is anything there belonging to your father."
Dan examined the pile with care, and presently came upon the papers, safe and sound, just as they had been stolen by Hank Stiger.
"They are here!" he cried, and passed them over for examination. "Won't father be glad of this!" And off he ran a little later to tell his parent. Amos Radbury could scarcely speak, but his satisfaction shone in his eyes.
"It is a great relief," he murmured. "They cannot disturb my home now." And then he added with a sigh, "I wish I were there now!"
"All in good time, father," said Dan, affection-
