on a small box and looked into the glowing embers.
Soon afterward, Joe, looking from his small shelter tent, saw Hank fingering his big revolver, spinning the cylinder, and testing the mechanism.
"Something's up!" whispered Joe to himself. "I wonder if it can be that he saw"
He did not finish the sentence, for just then Hank put away the weapon and soon the aromatic odor of burning tobacco filled the night air.
"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed the lad. "I'm foolish to worry about nothing; I'm going to sleep!" and he turned over, and closed his eyes. But, somehow, sleep would not come at once. Even with his eyes closed he could fancy the figure of the cowboy guide sitting by the fire.
Blake seemed to be less uneasy than did his chum. If he saw Hank by the fire he made no mention of it, and from his tent came no movement that showed he was awake.
Presently Joe began to speculate on the new experience he felt would come to him, if he succeeded in locating his father.
"It really doesn't seem possible—that I'm going to have folks at last," murmured Joe. "And maybe not only a father, but brothers and sisters—Uncle Bill Duncan said he didn't know. I may have more than Blake, if I keep on," and then,
