"Rasco, my father's manner is against him—I know that. But I'm certain he never committed a crime in his life."
"I believes yer, Dick. Yer father's a gentleman, every inch o' him; I seed thet the fust I clapped eyes on him. But knowin' the truth is one thing an' provin' it is another, especially in the wild west. This air Vorlange may hev yer father in a mighty tight hole, and if you show him up as the thief who stole the deeds an' the money, he may turn on yer dad and squeeze him mightily, see?"
"I see. But what shall I do just now?"
"Follow Vorlange and spy on to him all yer can. It ain't no ust ter hurry matters, with your father flat on his back. Powell will remain here and Vorlange will be with the cavalry, so yer will know whar ter clap eyes on ter both of 'em if it's necessary."
A moment's reflection convinced Dick that this was sound advice, and he said he would follow it, mentally resolved not to accuse Vorlange of anything until he had gotten his parent to confess to the true state of affairs.
By this time the boy and the man of the plains had left the veranda and walked around to where Rasco had left his horse. A moment later they saw Louis Vorlange hurry from the barroom of the hotel, leap upon his own animal, and strike out of town in a westerly direction.
"If I had a horse I'd follow him," began Dick, when Rasco motioned the youth to hop up behind. Soon they were riding after Vorlange, but not close enough to allow the spy to imagine that he was being followed.
"If you go after him you'll get no chance to hunt up your niece," began Dick, when the city was left behind.
"That's true, lad." Jack Rasco's face grew troubled. "I don't know wot's best ter do. It ain't fair ter let yer follow Vorlange alone; an' with only one hoss——hullo, wot does this mean? Carl Humpendinck, an' wavin' his hand to us like he war crazy."
Rasco had discovered the German boomer sweeping up a side trail. Humpendinck had made out Rasco but a second before and now shouted for the man of the plains to halt.