“Why, they’re heading almost straight for Big Horn Ranch!” exclaimed Spouter excitedly.
“They’re going to follow the old river trail,” announced Jarley Bangs. “More’n likely they’ll take to the lower trail when they reach the forks.”
“Can’t we head ’em off and capture ’em?” questioned Fred.
“I think we can. Anyhow, we can try,” was Jarley Bangs’ answer.
The old ranchman made a swift mental calculation and then directed the boys to follow him to a fording place a little further down the river. Once on the other side of the watercourse, he urged his steed forward at topmost speed in the direction of another patch of timber further southward.
“They wouldn’t dare take the upper trail,” he told the lads. “For that would take ’em too close to Big Horn. They’ll come this way, I’m almost certain.”
It was not easy riding on a trail which was used but seldom. Nevertheless, the lads hurried after the old ranchman as well as they could. They wound in and out over some rough rocks and up a small hill, and presently emerged upon a much better trail.
“Here is where they ought to pass,” announced Jarley Bangs. “Now then, we’ll put our horses in the thicket and then see what we can do toward pocketing ’em when they come.”
The old ranchman had seen strenuous times in his younger days, and he seemed to know exactly what to do. He divided the boys into two groups, placing them on either side of the winding and rocky road.
“Now if you have to shoot, shoot high so as not to hit anybody on the other side,” was his warning. “But maybe we can get ’em without firing a shot,” he went on.