"We'll make him speak," was Pawnee Brown's grim response.
An hour of hard riding brought them to the spot where Dick had been left. Not a single trace of the lad could be found. Both men looked blank.
"Bet he's wandered off and got lost," said Clemmer, and Pawnee Brown nodded.
"We'll strike off eastward, Cal, and see if we can't find some trace of him. It is no use of going westward. If he had gone that way, he would have reached the ravine and come up into Kansas."
Once again they set off. An hour was spent here and there, when suddenly Clemmer uttered a cry.
"Been a struggle hyer, Pawnee. See them footprints?"
"Three people," answered the scout, making an inspection. "A boy, a girl or a woman, and an Indian. Can they have been Dick, Nellie Winthrop and Yellow Elk? Hang me if it doesn't look like it."
"Hyer's where the trail leads off," said Clemmer. "And that's the boy's. Can't see nuthin o the gal's."
"That means the Indian carried her off," ejaculated Pawnee Brown. "Let us follow his trail without delay."
"But the boy's?"
"You follow that, and I'll follow the redskin. If he had the girl I want to know it."
