"Nope! Neither hide nor hair! Something sure must have happened. The Kid isn't one to go wanderin' off and get lost. I'm afraid he's in trouble, boys!" CHAPTER III A SUSPICIOUS VISITOR The three looked at each other in alarm. "Golly, I never thought anything could happen to the Kid," Bud said slowly. "He was brought up in this country, and always said he could find his way about blindfolded." "Perhaps the water hole was farther away than he thought," suggested Nort hopefully. "It's easy for any man to go astray on a matter of distance, you know." "Well, maybe--but I doubt it. What I think happened is that his pony stumbled into a hole and lamed hisself. Well--we'll have to go looking for him, that's all. Nort, you and Dick branch out here to the right. Bud, you take the left trail. I'll try straight ahead. Now remember your trails, boys--we don't want no more accidents to happen. We'll all meet here in one hour. If anything happens, fire three shots. Git along there!" And Billee Dobb, together with the rest set out to find Yellin' Kid who was so mysteriously and unaccountably lost. Nort, who was riding with Dick, was the first to pick up a possible clew. "Looks as though someone passed here in a hurry," he said as he pointed to a newly beaten path through some heavy brush. "Now if I was just going along easy like I'd have ridden 'round that bush. The pony that went through there got a few scratches." "Wonder if it could have been the Kid?" Nort mused. "Though why he should be in such an all-fired hurry I can't understand. Unless he was chasing someone." "Or being chased," Dick added. "Perhaps he met a smuggler, Dick." "Smuggler--'way up here? Not a chance! Say, Nort, you've got smugglers on the brain. You seem to think they ride around with big signs pinned on them--'I am a smuggler--shoot me.' Suppose the Kid did meet a smuggler--how'd he know him from any other man?" "That's right--guess he wouldn't," admitted Nort, a trifle shamefacedly. "But you know what he told us about that marshal being shot." "Oh, yes, but marshals get shot nearly every day, somewhere--and maybe it wasn't a Chink smuggler that shot him after all--maybe it was just an ordinary gang of rustlers." "Well, you can say what you like, Dick, but I'll lay odds we see some excitement when we reach Roaring River." "We'll see some excitement sooner than that, if we don't find the Kid. See here--if he made this trail, he was going fast--and in this direction. Let's get on our way." "Better go back, do you think?" Nort asked as he looked up toward the sun. "We've been gone at least an hour, and Billee said to return within that time." "Yes," Dick responded, a little sadly, for he and Yellin' Kid were close friends. "I sure hope the Kid's all right. Perhaps some of the others picked him up." "Perhaps. Let's hope so. At any rate, we haven't had much success--and I doubt even that the torn brush we saw was done by the Kid."