Of course, he had no means of telling whether or not anybody
was receiving his sending, but had to go ahead on the chance that they
were.
"Attacked by Indians," he sent. "Near stage-coach trail--twenty miles
east of Helena. Send help, quick."
He repeated this message again and again, until he felt sure that
somebody must have received it. Then he twisted the two ends of the wire
together, and slid down the pole.
"Now to get back with Dick and Tom and the others," he thought. "It's
going to be no easy matter, either. I have an idea it's going to be
harder to get in than it was to get out."
He retraced his course with the utmost caution, until he judged that he
must be nearing the Indian outposts. Then he dropped at full length on
the ground and commenced crawling forward at a snail's pace, pausing
every few yards to listen intently for any indication of danger. At one
time he heard a murmur of guttural voices at no great distance, and
proceeded with redoubled caution until he left the sound behind.
Gradually he worked himself along until he knew he could be at no great
distance from his friends.
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