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When Saturday came and brought no Andy to camp, the Happy Family began to speculate upon his absence. When Sunday’s circle took them within twelve or fifteen miles of the camp in the Bad-lands, Pink suddenly proposed that they ride down there and see what was going on. “He won’t be looking for us,” he explained, to hide a secret uneasiness. “And if he’s there we can find out what the josh is. If he ain’t, we’ll have it on him good and strong.”

“I betche Andy just wanted a lay-off, and took that way uh getting it,” declared Happy Jack pessimistically. “I betche he’s in town right now, tearing things wide open and tickled to think he don’t have to ride in this hot sun. Yuh can’t never tell what Andy’s got cached up his sleeve.”

“Chip thinks he was talking on the level,” Weary mused. “Maybe he was; as Happy says, yuh can’t tell.”

As always before, this brought the Happy Family to argument which lasted till they neared the deep, lonely coulee where, according to Andy, “friend Dan” had wintered with the shifty-eyed old man.

“Now, how the mischief do we get down?” questioned Jack Bates complainingly. “This is bound to be the right place–there’s the cabin over there against the cottonwoods.”

“Aw, come on back,” urged Happy Jack, viewing the steep bluff with disfavor. “Chances is, Andy’s in town right now. He ain’t down–“

“There’s old Buck, over there by the creek,” Pink announced. “I’d know him far as I could see him. Let’s ride around that way. There’s sure to be a trail down.” He started off, and they followed him dispiritedly, for the heat was something to remember afterwards with a shudder.

“Here’s the place,” Pink called back to them, after some minutes of riding. “Andy’s horse is down there, too, but I don’t see Andy–“

“Chances is–” began Happy Jack, but found no one listening.

It would be impossible to ride down, so they dismounted and prepared for the scramble. They could see Buck, packed as if for the homeward trail, and they could see Andy’s horse, saddled and feeding with reins dragging. He looked up at them and whinnied, and the sound but accentuated the loneliness of the place. Buck, too, saw them and came toward them, whinnying wistfully; but, though they strained eyes in every direction, they could see nothing of the man they sought.

It was significant of their apprehension that not even Happy Jack made open comment upon the strangeness of it. Instead, they dug bootheels deep where the slope was loose gravel, and watched that their horses did not slide down upon them; climbed over rocks where the way was barred, and prayed that horse and man might not break a leg. They had been over rough spots, and had climbed in and out of deep coulees, but never had they travelled a rougher trail than that.

“My God! boys, look down there!” Pink cried, when yet fifty perpendicular feet lay between them and the level below.

They looked, and drew breath sharply. Huddled at the very foot of the last and worst slope lay Andy, and they needed no words to explain what had happened. It was evident that he had started to climb the bluff and had slipped and fallen to the bottom, And from the way he was lying–The Happy Family shut out the horror of the thought and hurried recklessly to the place.

It was Pink who, with a last slide and a stumbling recovery at the bottom, reached him first. It was Jack Bates who came a close second and helped to turn him–for he had fallen partly on his face. From the way one arm was crumpled back under him, they knew it to be broken. Further than that they could only guess and hope. While they were feeling for heart-beats, the others came down and crowded close. Pink looked up at them strainedly.

“Oh, for God’s sake, some of yuh get water,” he cried sharply. “What good do yuh think you’re doing, just standing around?”