They left the horse tethered on the outskirts of the latter; and twenty minutes afterward Devine, who had scrambled up and down among the undergrowth, stopped suddenly.
"Come here," he cried with a suggestive hoarseness.

"We're through with this trail." He was standing waist-deep among the tangled brushwood, and it was a minute before Weston smashed through it to his side.

Then he, too, stopped and started, for he saw a huddled object in tattered duck lying face downward at his comrade's feet.

The latter made a little gesture when he met Weston's eyes.
"We'll make sure," he said quietly.

"Still, you see how he's lying." Weston dropped on his knees, and with some difficulty turned the prostrate figure over.