"Maybe yes, and maybe no. Why?" he growled. "Because if it isn't, we'd like to know where you got it." "And if you don't tell, we'll go on and let you be," snapped little Jed. "Shut up," I ordered--which wasn't the right way, but I said it before I thought. Jed had made me angry. "No, we won't." And we wouldn't. Our duty was to fix him the best we could. "But that looks like something belonging to us Scouts, and it has our private mark on it. We'd like to have you explain where you got it." "He's _got_ to explain, too," said little Jed, excited. "Have I?" grinned the man, hurting his face. "Why so?" "There are three of us kids. We can keep sight of you till that Ranger comes back. He'll make you." "Who?" "That Forest Ranger. He's a Government officer." Kit Carson arrived, staring, with more water. "I know you!" he panted. He signed to us, pointing at the man's feet. "You were at that other camp!" And Jed and I looked and saw the hole in the left sole--although both soles were badly burned, now. By that mark he was the beaver man! He wriggled uneasily as if he had a notion to sit up. "Well, if you want it so bad, and it's yours, take it." And in a jiffy I had cut it loose with my knife. "It's been a hoodoo to me. How did you know I was at any other camp? Are you those three kids?" "We saw your tracks," I answered. "What three kids?" "The three kids those other fellows had corralled." "No, but we're their partners. We're looking for them." He'd had another drink of water and his face squinted at us, as we fussed about him. Kit took off one of the shoes and I the other, to get at the blistered feet. "Never saw you before, did I?" "Maybe not." "Well, I'll tell you some news. One of your partners got away." That was good. "How do you know?" we all three asked. "I met him, back on the trail, with two new kids." "Which one was he? What did he look like?" "A young lad, dressed like you. Carried a bow and arrow." "Brown eyes and big ears?" "Brown eyes, I reckon. Didn't notice his ears." That must have been Jim Bridger. "Who were the two fellows?" "More of you Scouts, I reckon. Carried packs on their backs. Dressed in khaki and leggins, like soldiers." They weren't any of us Elks, then. But we were tremendously excited. "When?" "This noon." That sure was news. Hurrah for Jim Bridger! "Did you see a one-armed boy?" "Saw him in that camp, where the three of 'em were corralled." "What kind of a crowd had they? Was one wearing a big revolver?" "Yes. 'Bout as big as he was. They looked like some tough town bunch." "How many?" "Eight or ten." Oho! "Did you hear anybody called Bill?" "Yes; also Bat and Mike and Walt and et cetery." We'd fired these questions at him as fast as we could get them in edgewise, and now we knew a heap. The signs had told us true. Those two recruits had joined with the town gang, and our Scouts had been captured; but escape had been attempted and Jim Bridger had got away.