The fifteen miles of rough traveling did not discourage him in the
least. He reasoned that he ought to reach the mining camp by four or
five o'clock that afternoon. That would be in time for him to start
back with food for the other boys, whom he had left in camp.

"My, but I'll bet Chunky is a walking skeleton by this time," smiled
Tad, as the thought of his companion's appetite came humorously into
his mind.

Talking to himself to keep up his courage, consulting his compass
frequently, that he might not stray from the course in the least, the
lad hurried on. Reaching the draw that the miners had described, he
recognized it at once, worked his way around it and came back. He
might have shortened the journey had he but known how to work out his
course by the compass. Tad realized this. He told himself that he
could not afford to try any experiment, however.

His judgment was verified, when, shortly after four o'clock he was
gratified by sighting several pillars of black smoke.

"That's the place. I've hit it!" exulted the lad, breaking into a
sharp trot, which he increased until he was running at top speed.

With clothes in a sad state of disorder, eyes red and sunken, Tad
Butler burst into the Red Star mining camp. His sudden entrance
caused the few people about to pause and gaze at him in astonishment.

"Where's Mr. Munson--Mr. Richard Munson? I must see him at once," he
asked of one of these.