As they passed Widow Wisdom's, Denton darted in.
"Have your fire alight and some food ready.

Some of our youngsters have been all night on the mountain.

We're going to look for them." Half-way to the lake, they were pulled up by a shout from across the stream.

It was Percy Wheatfield, dead beat, sitting on a log, as white and miserable as a ghost.
"I say, have you chaps seen Wally ?" he called.
"No; we're off to look.

Some of them have turned up.