Part 24 (1/2)

Ike Watson halted in perplexity for fully a minute. Then he dismounted and waded into the stream, which was scarcely a foot to a foot and a half in depth.

”Ho! ho! ho!” he laughed, suddenly. ”I thought so! No, ye can't play thet game hyer.”.

”What now, Ike?” questioned the young ranchman.

”They went up in the middle o' this yere stream, thinkin' they could throw me off the trail. See, hyer are the marks ez plain ez the nose on Cap'n Grady's face.” And the old hunter pointed into the clear water.

Leaving Allen to bring his horse, Watson walked slowly along the bed of the stream, taking good care not to step into any deep holes. In this manner half a mile was covered, when, at a point where the brush along the bank was thin, the trail led out once more on the dirt and rocks.

”An old trick, but it didn't work this trip,” chuckled Ike Watson to himself, as he once more resumed his seat in the saddle.

”What I am thinking of is, what made them suspicious, after they were so far from Casey's Forks,” said Allen.

”Perhaps their guilty consciences,” laughed Noel.

”Thet, an' because they thought I might be follerin' 'em,” added Ike Watson. ”Hullo! What does this mean?”

He had followed the trail around a belt of timber. Beyond was a wall of rocks, and here were traces of a recent camp--a smoldering fire and some odds and ends of crackers and meat.

”We ain't far behind 'em, boys!” he went on. ”This fire wuz tended ter less than a couple o' hours ago.”

”Then let us push on, by all means,” returned Allen. ”If we can catch those two men before they have a chance to join any of their evil companions, so much the better.”

”The trail leads along the rocks,” observed Noel. ”Have you any idea where we are going?”

”Idee! I know this yere country like a book,” said Ike Watson. ”Don't ye git 'feered o' bein' lost so long ez ye stay nigh me.”

”I don't mean that. I mean, do you know where the men went from here?”

”Up to Grizzly Pa.s.s, most likely, an' then along over ter the Black Rock Canyon. Eh, Allen?”

”It would seem so,” responded Allen seriously.

”Grizzly Pa.s.s; rather a suggestive name,” said Noel.

”Ye-as; especially when a big grizzly shows hisself,” drawled Watson, and there the conversation dropped.

Despite the fierce suns.h.i.+ne, it was deliciously cool along the base of the rocky wall, and the horses made good progress over the hard but level trail. Here and there immense brier bushes overhung the way, but these were easily avoided by the animals, who were more afraid of them than were their riders.

Presently the trail took an upward course, leading between a split in the rocks.

”Ye want ter be careful hyer,” cautioned Ike Watson. ”It's a mighty slippery spot fer the best o' hoss flesh.”

Scarcely had he spoken when Noel Urner gave a cry of alarm.

He was in the rear, and both the old hunter and Allen turned quickly to see what was the matter.

They found Noel's horse on his knees, having slipped to one side of the trail.

The young man was on the ground, one foot caught in the stirrup.