ch way should he go now? He had seen nothing of
the boy, whom he certainly ought to have overtaken before this, nor of
any other person. Could he have passed them? Where should he look for
Gilder and Plater? Would it not be better, after all, to await their
return on the raft? Of course it would. He had been a fool to leave
it, and now his best plan was to get back to it as quickly as possible.

These thoughts occupied less than a minute, and so impatient was the
man to regain the raft he had just left that inside of two minutes more
he again stood on the river-bank. He had been gone barely five
minutes, and in that time he had not seen a human being. Now he could
not see the raft. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. He could see a
few rods of water, but beyond that the fog was impenetrable. He
shouted, but there was no answer. Perhaps this was not the place. He
ran a little way up the shore, and then as far in the opposite
direction, but without success. Then he returned to his
starting-point, and found the end of a rope. It was attached to a
tree, and had been cut. It was a bit of the line that had held the
raft, and the raft was gone.

The blow was a heavy one, and for a few minutes Grimshaw stood like one
who is stunned. The loss of that raft, under the circumstances, meant
ruin. It meant the loss of everything he had or cared for in the
world. At first the realization of this loss rendered him speechless.
Then he began to rave and revile his own carelessness. After a few
minutes devoted to this he again started up the trail. He was
determined to procure some craft and start in instant pursuit of the
raft. He would go in company with his partners if he ran across them,
but alone if he did not. Before he reached the far edge of the timber
he met Plater running and breathless.

"Get back to the raft!" shouted the new-comer. "They're after us!"

"They've got us," was the bitter answer. "At least they've got the
raft, and we must hunt some boat in which to follow them at once."

A few words more explained the situation, and, angry as he was, Plater
did not stop to waste time in idle reproaches just then. He only
said, "It's that sneak Gilder's doings, I'll bet my pile."

Grimshaw agreed to this, and as they hurried along they both thought of
their partner as floating down the river on the raft in company with
their enemies and glorying over their discomfiture.

"We'll get even with him