"Fred was sure that a single hour was enough to place himself on the further side of them, and double that time has passed. He ought to be well down the slope, but I can see nothing of him." One fact, however, was apparent: the antelope were steadily though slowly working toward the ridge on which the young man lay. At the rate they were advancing it would not be long before it would be safe to try a shot. This progress could not be laid to any alarm coming from the other side. If the animals received fright they would be off with the speed of the wind, instead of inching along in the fashion they were now following. "It begins to look as if I am to secure the meal, after all," thought Jack, forgetting his slight uneasiness for his friend in his growing excitement. The following minute gave proof of the timidity of the American antelope. With all the care possible, the youth extended his gun in front of him over the slope, but the herd took the alarm on the instant, though it seemed impossible that they should have seen or heard anything. The leader raised his head, and whirling to one side, started at a swift gallop toward the other end of the valley, the rest of the animals being hardly a second behind him. The peculiar panic and stampede of the creatures gave Jack Dudley the best possible target, though the shot was a long one. He did not aim at the leader, but at a smaller animal that immediately followed him. The bullet pierced the heart of the antelope, which made a frenzied leap high in air, staggered a few paces, and dropped to the ground without a particle of life. "Hurrah!" exclaimed the delighted Jack, springing up and dashing down the side of the valley toward his prize; "I beat you, after all, Fred!" Not doubting that his comrade would speedily appear, Jack gave no further thought to him, but continued running until he reached the prize. He had learned the art so rapidly that it took but a few minutes to cut all he could need for himself and friend. Then he hurried to the little grove near by, washed and dressed the food, which seemed to be juicy and tender, and started a fire for the purpose of broiling it. He had not paused in his work up to this point, but now he stopped with the first real thrill of alarm for his friend. "Four o'clock!" he exclaimed to himself; "what can have become of him?" He walked to the edge of the trees and looked out, anxiously peering in different directions, but nothing was seen of his friend. Knowing Fred's waggish nature, Jack hoped that he was indulging in some jest, but he could not quite convince himself that such was the fact. The hunger of Fred would have prevented his postponing the meal one moment longer than was necessary. When an abundance of food was browned and crisped and ready the appetite of Jack Dudley was less than it was two hours before, the cause being his growing alarm over the unaccountable absence of Fred.