For a moment or so the two boys stood looking at one another in a puzzled fashion. "It's funny," Sanson said at length. "He wouldn't have gone back, either. If he found something, he'd have whistled. Let's call and see if he's over the other way." Tompkins nodded, and together they walked briskly back a few steps. But it was Ranny Phelps who answered their hail, and in a few moments they saw him coming toward them through the brush. "What's up?" he asked quickly. "You haven't found--" "No; it's Court," interrupted Tompkins. "He started out between Frank and me, but he must have got mixed up somehow, for we can't find him. We thought he might be over your way." "I haven't seen him," said Ranny, briefly. He hesitated an instant and then, pursing up his lips, whistled shrilly. "Best way's to get them all together and straighten things out," he went on. "If he's off his beat, the chances are that part of the ground isn't being looked over at all. This way, fellows." Bob Gibson was the first to hurry up. Then came Trexler, Bennie Rhead, and lastly Vedder, panting with his haste. But Parker was not among them, nor did Ranny's repeated whistling bring sight or sound of the missing boy. None of the others had seen him since leaving the old foundation, and as they stood there, puzzled and a bit anxious, Tompkins suddenly remembered that for some little time before the meeting with Sanson he had failed to hear the rustlings on his right that had kept him aware of Court's presence. At the time it had seemed unimportant, but now he made haste to mention it. "Bennie, you chase back to the smelter and see if he's there by any chance," ordered Ranny, crisply, when Dale had finished. "The rest of us get in a close line and beat back along Court's territory. I can't imagine anything happening to him that Tompkins or Sanson wouldn't hear or know about--unless, of course, it's a joke." His jaw squared in a way that boded ill for the volatile Courtlandt if this should prove to be one of his familiar escapades. But, somehow, Tompkins did not believe that this could be the explanation. Court had been too keenly enthusiastic about the search to delay it by senseless horse-play. Though he, no more than Ranny, could think of any accident which would render the boy unconscious without his making a sound of any sort, Dale took his place in the line with a feeling of distinct uneasiness. So close together that they could almost touch each other's outstretched hands, the scouts started down the slope. There was little conversation, for by this time all were more or less worried. Just where they expected to find the missing boy would have been hard to tell, but a rabbit could scarcely have escaped their close scrutiny of bush and rock and thorny tangle.