"Well, as no one will bring me a drink, I'll go and get one," thought the boy to himself, and he boldly threw back the flap of the tent and marched out. For an instant a wild hope flashed across him that he could escape. No attempt was made by any member of the smoking circle to check him, and the boy reached the bank of the stream without the slightest interference being opposed to his movements. "I'll try it," thought Rob. "I believe they've forgotten me." He placed his foot on a rock and was about to spring to the farther bank of the little creek, when a sharp voice behind him checked him abruptly: "White boy, come back!" The words came in the guttural, grunting tone that was unmistakably Indian. Rob wheeled, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a gleaming rifle-barrel. CHAPTER XII. TUBBY'S PERIL. "That's queer; I don't see a sign of him." Merritt Crawford, on the return of the Boy Scouts with ropes and help, peered about the ledge for a trace of his leader, but in vain. "He can't have gone over, too." It was Blinky who suggested this alarming possibility. "Don't suggest such a thing," protested Merritt. "Hullo, Tubby!--below there--are you all right?" "Fine and dandy, but snake down a rope as soon as you can, will you, and you might tie a sandwich on it, if you don't mind." "You can have your sandwich when we get you up," promised Merritt, as the others, despite their worry over Rob's disappearance, broke into a loud laugh at Tubby's unconcerned manner. "Come on, now, and lend a hand with the ropes," ordered Blinky, who had brought several lariats up on his pony, and was busily engaged in tying them together so as to form a long lifeline. Tubby had not yet been informed of Rob's disappearance, as it was feared that it might unnerve him. A fresh difficulty now presented itself. On the narrow ledge there was not sufficient room for the holders of the rope to brace themselves. To haul up the stout youth, therefore, it was necessary to return to the summit of the cliff. This was quickly done, but you may be sure that great caution was exercised in mounting the steps cut in the rock face. The fate of Tubby was fresh in their minds, even without the reminder that he was still clinging to his uncertain support, so far below them. Blinky began looking about for a suitable tree, around which to take a turn of the rope, as soon as they reached the summit. One was found about fifteen feet back from the lip of the precipice. "Now, then," ordered the cow-puncher, as he tied a big loop in one end of his long line, "we'll see if this will reach." He dropped it over the edge of the cliff and dangled it about so that it rattled against the rock. This was in order that the fat boy could hear it and indicate in which direction he wished it swung. "Is it near you, now, Tubby?" shouted Blinky, peering down into the darkness and tentatively swinging the rope.