the midday sun is over," suggested Phil. "The sunshine just now is enough to give one a sunstroke."
It was a little after three o'clock when the three lads prepared to walk along the back trail, on the lookout for the old miner. But just as they started Dave put up his hand.
"Listen!"
All did so, and from a distance heard the clatter of horses' hoofs on the rocky trail. Then came a cheery call.
"It's Mr. Dillon!" cried Roger, and let out a call in return, and the others did likewise.
Soon the old miner appeard around a bend of the trail. He was seated on his own steed and driving the others in front of him. He looked tired out, and the horses looked the same.
"Are you all right, Mr. Dillon?" sang out Dave, as he ran forward to stop the nearest horse.
"All right, boys!" was the answer. "That is, I will be as soon as I've rested a bit. I've had some ride, believe me!"
Roger and Phil helped Dave to secure the free horses and tether them, and our hero held the old miner's steed while he fairly tumbled to the ground. The horse was in a heavy lather, and Mr. Dillon was covered with dust.
"You weren't shot, were you?" questioned the senator's son, anxiously.
