Part 31 (1/2)

At this sharp command the man with the horses turned slightly to look back. He crouched low, and wore a sombrero pulled down well over his face. On the instant he rode to the front of the galloping steeds, thus getting out of range of the old miner's weapon.

”Come on, we must get our hosses!” sang out Tom Dillon, and started forward on the run. Then he let out a shrill whistle, one he knew was used for calling the animal he had been riding.

The effect of the whistle was all that could have been desired. The horse dropped to a walk and then turned back. And as Tom Dillon continued to whistle, the intelligent steed came closer and closer, until the old miner was able to grasp it by the halter.

But all this had taken valuable time, and meanwhile the other horses continued to gallop on, led by the man in front, who was now riding like the wind. Who he was they could not make out, but they strongly suspected Sol Blugg or one of his cronies.

”I'd shoot if them hosses wasn't in the way!” cried Tom Dillon, wrathfully.

”Can't you go after them?” asked Dave and Roger, in a breath.

”I can and I will!” answered the old miner. ”Stay right here till I get back!” And with those words he saddled his horse with all speed, and in less than a minute later was flying down the back trail after the stolen steeds and the rascal who was making off with them.

CHAPTER XIX

THE NEWSPAPER CLEW

”Do you think he'll catch that fellow?”

It was Phil who asked the question, as he and Dave and Roger watched the old miner disappear around a bend of the back trail.

”I don't know about that,” returned Dave. ”But if he gets the horses back it will be something.”

”I should say yes!” cried the senator's son. ”Why, we won't be able to go on unless we get them back!” he added, his face showing his worry.

”Listen!” exclaimed Roger a minute later. ”Somebody is shooting!”

It was true--a shot had sounded out on the morning air. Soon it was followed by another, at a greater distance--showing that pursued and pursuer were drawing farther from the boys.

The boys walked slowly back to the campfire and commenced to stir it up, and then they finished their morning toilet. Dave heaved a deep sigh.

”I must say I don't feel much like eating,” he observed.

”Oh, we might as well fix breakfast,” came from Phil. ”It will help to pa.s.s the time. It won't do any good to just sit around.”

Fortunately their provisions were at hand, so it was an easy matter to prepare the morning meal. Before eating, however, Roger and Dave climbed the tall rock behind the camp and looked for some sign of Tom Dillon and the man he was pursuing.

”I can't see a thing,” announced Roger, after a long look through the field-gla.s.ses. ”Here, you try,” and he handed the gla.s.ses to our hero.

For several minutes Dave surveyed the distant landscape in vain. Then he uttered a cry.

”I see them, Roger! There they go!” And he pointed excitedly with his finger.

At a distance they could not calculate they saw Tom Dillon and the rascal he was after, and also the flying horses. They were all bounding along a rocky trail, the would-be horse thief well in advance. Suddenly they saw this individual make a turn and disappear around some rocks.

The free horses kept on, with the old miner after them.

”That rascal has gotten away!” announced Dave. ”He has given Mr. Dillon the slip.”

”Dave, do you think Mr. Dillon will catch our horses?”