"We must get our outfit back."
"That's the talk."
"They are on the other side of the river?"
"We can wade or swim over."
By this time the mule and the wagon, along with Sag Ruff and Soapy Gannon, had disappeared behind some trees. The men were urging the mule on in every possible manner, beating him one minute and coaxing him the next.
"They have taken to this side trail on purpose," said Mark. "They are evidently afraid of meeting some of our friends."
It was decided to leave the deer and the rest of their game hanging in a tree by the riverside. Then they searched along the watercourse until they found a spot where fording was comparatively easy. Mark took off his shoes and stockings, rolled up his trousers, and waded in, and Bob followed.
"Now look to your shotgun," said Bob, when they were safe on the other side. "Those fellows may want to fight." And both loaded with care, and then put on their shoes and stockings again, and started after the stolen turnout.
It was no easy walk, and once they made a false turn on the trail, getting into a clump of nettles which scratched them and tore their clothing. But then they reached a level stretch and Mark set off on a run, with Bob at his heels.
"I see them!" cried Mark, a few minutes later. "There they go again, behind yonder trees."