Both boys had missed the trail, and had found, not the camp, but each other.

They had last met in New York.

Frank had not the slightest notion that Peter had left the city.

It was a fortunate meeting, for the two, after greeting each other like chums, had studied the situation out much better than one could have done, with the result that, after many false trails had been followed, they had struck the one left by Jimmie.
"Where are they going with Fremont ?" Frank asked, in a moment.
"They seem to be going after the reward," replied Jimmie.
"He'll get all the reward that's coming to him before he gets over the river and claims the money," Frank exclaimed.

"Do you think Fremont knows that you are here ?" Jimmie shook his head.
"I've had to keep back," he said, "and Fremont never will look my way when I get close up to where he is." "He ought to know," the drummer said.
"I've done my best," Jimmie said, in a discouraged tone.
Frank Shaw smiled and dropped down behind a huge rock.
"Just wait a minute," he said.