and advanced into the light of Ralph's campfire. One of the
unmounted searchers carried a lantern.

They were Tom Walsh,---on Keno,---Jack Durham, and Tom Sherwood.

"What in 'tarnation's the trouble, lad?" demanded Tom, as soon
as the searching party had exchanged greetings with Ralph, fervently
overjoyed to see them. "We've been looking for you ever since
three o'clock this afternoon."

Ralph explained the object of his quest.

"I got 'em, too," he added, pointing proudly to the two eagles.
"But when I started to go home, without Keno, and tried to take a
shortcut through the woods, I got lost somehow; and besides, I
sprained my ankle, so I can't walk. I just had to wait for
somebody to come after me. I hope mother hasn't been awfully
worried."

"Well, she wasn't exactly what you'd call calm!" replied Tom.
"But the doc is there at the house now, with her; she might be
lots worse. Does your ankle hurt bad? Can you ride home?"

"Sure I can! Let's start right away---unless you fellows want to
rest. You must be tired."

"I'm not," asserted Tom Sherwood. "How about you, Jack?"

The youngest boy gave a little sigh. "It's awfully nice up here
in the woods by this fire!" he replied evasively. "Let's warm