"I am more than thankful for this," said Mark. "I couldn't have gone another step, try my best."
At the camp they procured some provisions, not knowing how long the chase might continue. With them went two of the miners, one of whom had been an under-sheriff in Missouri.
"We'll bring them to justice if it can be done," said this man, whose name was Peckham.
Maybe Dixon had evidently gotten a fresh supply of yellow flowers, for the trail was strewn thickly with them, so it could be followed with ease. It led through the upper end of the mining camp and then over the rocks and along the bottom of the series of cliffs just mentioned.
"This is certainly proving a long chase," said Andrew West, after several miles had been covered.
"The rascals will have to rest some time," answered Mark. "Their horses will give out. Luckily ours are fresh."
They kept on, and towards evening came to a spot where the cliffs were particularly rugged. They could see a long distance ahead and made out a figure on horseback, waving a hand in the air.
"It's Maybe Dixon!" cried Si.
"Perhaps he has lost the trail," came from Mark.
"Oh, don't say that," came from Bob, in fresh alarm. "They couldn't throw him as easily as all that."