When Buckskin stopped his snorting for a few seconds, Frank would himself halt, and appear to be listening intently.
Bob put in such opportunities by using his eyes to the best possible advantage; but he could see absolutely nothing, as yet.
As they were steadily approaching the place where the two horses had been staked out, Bob knew that presently they must arrive at a point where the animals at least could be seen. And then it should be possible to learn the cause of all this commotion.
Now the second animal seemed to join in with fresh vigor. Domino, although not a native of the plains, and hitherto unaccustomed to such perils as existed there, must have been taking lessons from the yellow pony.
“Whew!” Bob whispered to himself, “aren’t they just keeping it up lively, though? Domino is trying to beat the other at his own game, and he can do it, too, every time, once he learns how!”
Frank nudged him with his foot, which was a plain invitation to stop holding any conversation with himself; for Bob’s whisper had been in the nature of a low grumble.
The trample of horses’ hoofs now sounded more clearly; and Bob, using his eyes to the best of his ability, found that he could see a wildly moving form. Undoubtedly this must be Domino, rushing around as far as his rope would permit.
Frank had reached a point where he fancied that a change in their tactics would prove of advantage. Progress in this creeping fashion was too slow. He surprised Bob by suddenly jumping to his feet, and starting forward, at the same time shouting over his shoulder:
“Come on! Horse thieves, Bob!”
He could not possibly have said anything that would have electrified the Kentucky boy more than that. Bob loved his black mount, and it would have almost broken his heart had anyone managed to steal Domino.