Fremont's cap lay on the ground not far from where the weapon had been found.
Filled with apprehension, Jimmie dashed into the tents.

They were both empty.

The boy had disappeared, leaving his weapon and his cap behind.
It was plain to be seen, from marks on the rocks and the thin soil of the dent, that there had been a struggle.
Alarmed beyond the power of words to express, Jimmie crept into the hiding place they had used earlier in the evening and waited.

He was angry at Nestor for going away, and angry with himself for leaving Fremont alone.

While the latter possessed courage and strength, he was not as apt in such things as they were facing as his companions.