The Rover boys and their chums had thought to take the regular trail leading back to Big Horn Ranch, but Jarley Bangs told them he knew of a shorter way.
“We can cut off over a mile,” said he. “And I reckon the quicker we get a posse out the better.”
“Don’t you suppose we can round them up around Bimbel’s ranch almost any time?” queried Spouter.
“Maybe, and maybe not. We’d probably be able to get the others, but Haddon, Dusenbury and Jillson come and go. Sometimes they’re here, and sometimes in Omaha and Chicago.”
“Perhaps that’s where they disposed of their stolen horses,” suggested Jack.
“More’n likely.”
Jarley Bangs had armed himself with a double-barreled shotgun, and he rode in advance with Spouter at his side and the others close behind.
The way lay across a stretch of prairie and then into the edge of the woods bordering the river. The party had just gained the water’s edge and were looking for a good fording place when Brassy suddenly uttered an exclamation.
“Look up the river, will you? There are those men now! And see! they are leading a couple of horses!”
“Get back out of sight, quick!” ordered Jarley Bangs. And in a few seconds all were behind the bushes which at that point lined the river.