"
"Well, I wouldn't like to say," replied the other, cautiously. "This I
do know, and I saw it with my own eyes. Joe's fancy Mexican jacket was
torn nearly into ribbons; and I could see marks of blood, too."
"Whew! you don't say?" ejaculated Bob. "Then something _did_ get hold
of him; didn't it, Frank?"
"Looked like it," admitted the other.
"His jacket was torn into ribbons, you said--then I reckon whatever
tackled Joe had pretty sharp claws, Frank!" Bob continued.
"I thought as much myself. In other words, Bob, the man was attacked
by some wild beast that has its den in yonder. In the dark, with all
that terrible noise going on, Joe thought it was a monster from the
underworld. If he keeps on telling that story, ten to one, after a
while, he'll vow it had eyes of fire, and a tongue of blue flame. Joe
was frightened half to death, and a man in that condition gets to
seeing things that never did exist. Now, how's that?"
While speaking Frank had managed to light one of the cedar torches he
carried. The wood burned readily, and with persistence. It would make
a good substitute for a lantern. Indeed, Bob was enthusiastic over the
success attending his chum's effort.
"Couldn't be beat, that's what!" he cried.
"Well, there's nothing to keep us now," declared Frank.
"But what can I do?" asked the other. "Want me to light a torch too,
Frank?"
"No, one ought to be enough. You fall in just behind me, and Bob,
perhaps you'd better keep your gun handy.
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