As we already know, Ed did not return that night. Alarmed that some danger had befallen him, the campers took council as to what had best be done. To search that vast range at night on the mere chance that Ed was lost was worse than the proverbial needle-in-the-hay-stack hunt. Besides, Mr. Wilde said he was satisfied now that these scouts could ably take care of themselves in emergencies. This admission from him filled Westy and Warde with deep pride. They had indeed made good in his eyes. It was agreed that they wait until daylight and then hit the trail to Hermitage Rest to inquire if Ed had reached there safely, and if not to organize a search party. Mr. Wilde confessed to a twinge of conscience that the scouts had undergone such dangers. Until daylight could clear matters up it was thought best to get what rest they could in all that remained of the night in order to be fit for whatever emergency might tax them the next day. Westy, for one, was fatigued beyond any further endurance, and indeed the cliff climbing exertion had so worn out even Billy and Mr. Wilde that they were more than grateful for Warde’s thoughtfulness in having the bunks all ready to fall into. So fatigued were all three of the vulture hunters that they lay as if drugged and no wonder overslept themselves in the morning. They woke to find that the practical Warde had breakfast all prepared so that no time might be lost in starting out to find Ed.

Their late breakfast, however, had scarcely been finished when voices were heard coming up the trail and Ed himself appeared, leading a party of men. Although exhausted from his night’s hike, Ed insisted on guiding the relief party back as soon as he had been refreshed with black coffee and an ample breakfast. The party consisted of Buck himself, together with several men from Hermitage Rest, one of whom fortunately happened to be a doctor so that no time was needed to phone to Yellowstone for a surgeon after all. The doctor, kit in hand, hastened forward with Ed, expecting a nasty job with a mangled boy. Imagine his astonishment and Ed’s embarrassment when the unexpected outcome was explained.

“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,” jeered Warde, who ever since the bear episode had his mind pestered with nursery rimes. “Sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a big fall, all the Hermitage doctors and all Ed’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again.”

It was a long time before Warde, who had not been dashed to pieces ever the cliff, would quit calling Westy and Ed “Humpty” and “Dumpty.”

The doctor expressed himself as only too glad to find that in spite of his trip, his services were not needed in camp. To Mr. Wilde’s apologies he said, “I have all I can do with a patient farther down the trail and since I am not needed here, I propose that we return to him and try to move him to Hermitage Rest where good care may possibly save his life. He is so far gone from loss of blood from his gunshot wounds that I may have to do a blood transfusion to save him, if I can get any one to volunteer to give him some of theirs.”

“I will!” Ed offered promptly, for he felt that this was his own particular patient and he felt glad that his efforts to get a doctor in a hurry were really useful after all.

All hands started down the trail at once to see Ed’s stranger, who had been left where he lay in charge of a man who volunteered as nurse. By daylight and with Buck, who knew the mountains as you know your own backyard, it took far less time to reach the stranger than it had taken Ed by night.

The wounded man lay on the ground, looking weaker than when Ed found him. At sight of his face, cap and sweater, Westy could not repress an exclamation, “Why, I’ve seen him before!” he gasped. “So have I,” added Mr. Wilde grimly—“he’s Bloodhound Pete’s partner.” At this identification, the man groaned.

“Where’s Pete?” demanded Mr. Wilde.

“He’s gone, but before he left he got me good,” muttered the man.

“Somebody crooked a wallet from Pete one night and he claimed I done it,” said the man, and then went on to tell this story. “So he beat me up next day and at de point of his gat he drove me miles out here where he said he could leave me dead and nobody would ever find it out but de buzzards. Den he shot at me and I run and he come after and I hid behind trees and shot at him, but he had two guns and he’s dead-eye with both. Pete’ll kill any pal he has if he thinks he turns on him. I ain’t the first he’s tried to do for. He wouldn’t believe me when I said I hadn’t crooked the swag off him. He said I was de only one in miles of him dat night. Well, he must of lost it hisself. I know I didn’t take it. Anyways, it was gone, and he shot me and left me for dead where de buzzards would of picked me bones in a couple more hours if it hadn’t a been for dis young kid.”

“This kid here,” said Mr. Wilde, pushing Westy forward, “is the one who outwitted Pete.”

“Well, he done for me, I guess,” snarled the man. “I ain’t never squealed on a pal before, but Pete done me dirt, and I’ll give him away now so de police can square wid him.”

It was this information which made it possible later for the mounted state police to pursue the notorious Bloodhound through the forests and eventually see that he was safely behind bars. Ed felt that in spite of Humpty Dumpty, his night’s work had not been in vain.

In the meanwhile, however, it was necessary to move Pete’s partner to Hermitage Rest for surgical care if the man was to stand any chance of life at all.

“Your young friend, Ed, here, has offered to supply you with some of his blood if necessary,” said the doctor. The sick man’s eyes, small and evil though they were, filled with tears.

“Listen,” he said, “I know I ain’t gointer live and I don’t care. I ain’t got one thing in dis world to live for nohow, but I want to say before I go dat only two people in dis world ever treated me white. One was my old mother, dead and gone now, peace to her soul, and de other is dis kid. Kid, I hear you got de same name as mine and I’d like to give you something to remember me by, and every time you look at it you remember to steer clear of de line I got into. Here’s me watch me mother give me when I was twenty-one. You keep it and remember me. Look inside de lid and see wat it says there and then think wat a mess I made of all she wished for me.”

Ed reverently opened the lid. Carved on the inside of the old-fashioned silver case were these words:

There was considerable clearing of manly throats as Ed Carlyle, reading this, touched the hearts of all those grouped about the sad figure on the ground.

“Come, come,” broke in the doctor cheerfully. “You aren’t ready for your funeral yet by any means, my man. I can patch you up as well as ever and unless I miss my guess you have many years ahead in which you can make up for lost time in leading a useful life with this young scout as your mascot, eh, Eddie?”

“Sure you will,” said Buck. “You can stay at my place until you’re well and then I’ll give you a job. You ain’t the first tough character I’ve seen come to his senses and make good. Let’s get a move on now, and mosey on down to a good bed and good grub.”

It was agreed that Ed should accompany them back, as he too was in great need of a good bed and long sleep. Westy, however, had to remain with Billy to act out again for the camera man a scene depicting the rescue and first aid, which he had failed to complete the day before. The practical Warde was to return and help break up camp, and the scouts would join one another at Hermitage Rest the next day.

As they parted, Mr. Wilde shook hands with Ed and said, “I have to take back all that jollying I gave you scouts and I want to say now that next summer I am planning a trip to take motion pictures of wild animals and I would like very much indeed if the three of you could come along and help make that trip a success.”

“Wow! You bet we will!” shouted all three joyfully, hilarious at the prospect that their adventures should continue together through another vacation.