CHAPTER XIII

WINNING THROUGH PLUCK


Tad Butler had left the camp at daybreak. He started off at a slow
trot which he kept up over the rough, uneven ground until some time
after sunrise, all the time keeping the mountain gorge in sight so
that he might not lose his way.

He had eaten no breakfast, having simply taken a cup of sulphur water,
believing that he could make better time on an empty stomach.
However, he now sat down and munched on one of the three hard boiled
eggs he had taken with him.

"Guess it will be a good thing to rest for half an hour," he said to
himself. This he did, by stretching flat on his back, after having
finished his scanty breakfast.

Sharp on the half hour by his watch, Tad sprang up, greatly refreshed.
Leaning well forward he dropped into a long, easy lope, which carried
him over the ground rapidly. Hard as nails and spurred on by the need
of his companions, the lad pushed on and on, blazing his trail as he
went, not feeling any fatigue to speak of. Now and then he would
pause for a few moments to make sure that he was not straying from the
river gorge, which occasional rocks and foliage hid from his view.

At noon Tad sat down and ate another egg.