from her pony's back, just before the cavalcade left the ranch-house, very early on Tuesday.
"You better not. I'm going to be mighty busy around yere, and I don't want to be worried none," declared the ranchman. "And I sha'n't know what peace is till I see you-all back again."
"Now, don't worry," drawled his neice. "We ain't none of us sugar nor salt."
"I wish I could let Ike go with ye—that's what I wish," grumbled her uncle.
Ruth Fielding secretly wished the same. The direction of the Rolling River Camp lay toward Tintacker. She had asked the foreman about it.
"You'll be all of thirty mile from the Tintacker claims, Miss Ruth," Bashful Ike said." But it's a straight-away trail from the ford a mile, or so, this side of the camp. Any of the boys can show you. And Jib might spare one of 'em to beau you over to the mine, if so be you are determined to try and find that 'bug'."
"I do want to see and speak with him," Ruth said, earnestly.
"It's pretty sure he's looney," said Ike. "You won't make nothing out o' him. I wouldn't bother."
"Why, he saved my life!" cried Ruth. "I want to thank him. I want to help him. And—and—indeed, I need very much to see and speak with him, Ike."
