inevitable
coffee was hot in the billy-tin, there were no signs of the boy's
return.

Mackintosh was plainly annoyed.

"I dinna like that sort o' going-on," he grumbled. "Time is time, and
if a body doesn't keep to time, there's no knowing what deeficulties may
arise."

But Alf knew his friend better than Mackintosh did. He knew that the
excitement of the chase might result in a little lateness, for no one is
perfect in matters of punctuality (or anything else, for that matter)
under unusual circumstances. And the lad's anxiety had been gradually
increasing as the delay had been prolonged, though he said nothing
concerning his feelings until the man offered the remark that rather
displeased him.

"I don't think it's quite fair to judge a fellow until we know all the
reasons," he said with keen resentment. "Bob is not the chap to forget
other people. There's not a bit of selfishness about him."

"Yet I'm thinking that the silly laddie _has_ forgotten this time,
though, mind you, I'm no' saying that he's o' a selfish make," returned
Mackintosh a little more gently, seeing how his previous words had hurt
Alf. "I ken fine that boys will be boys----"

"And Bob is--Bob--one of the best fellows that ever lived. Listen!
What's that?"

The boy had suddenly started and bent forward with intent listening,
for his quick ear had caught the sound of two shots fired in rapid
succession. They were very distant sounds, but still, far away as they
were, the clear Western air enabled them to reach distinctly across the
distance.

"That's Bob's gun! I know its voice!" the lad exclaimed; and hardly were
the words uttered before two more shots were heard--equally distant yet
equally clear.

"That's queer----" began Mackintosh thoughtfully, when Alf interrupted
him by springing up from the ground where he had been sitting, and
exclaiming in troubled excitement--

"Queer? It means that Bob is in danger. See! There it is again!"

Two more shots were heard, followed in a short time by another double.

By this time Mackintosh was thoroughly roused. His backwoods experience
told him what a chum's sympathy had already gathered, that no freak of
sporting opportunities would cause these shots to be fired at such
regular intervals. They could mean nothing else but a signal of
distress.

"Come, Haggis!" he said in steady tones that showed how ready he was
for any emergency. "Leave those birds, and set your best foot forward.
There's