"Sure thing," answered Jim Jones. He paused for a moment. "Want to get there the easiest way possible, I reckon?"
"Of course."
"Well, then, keep to this trail for half a mile further. Then, when you come to the blasted hemlock, take the trail to the left. That will take you through the upper end of the next town and right on to Denton's."
"Thanks," said Dick. "Is it a good road?"
"Fine, after the fust few miles are passed. There are a few bad spots at first, but you mustn't mind them."
"We shan't mind," came from Sam. "We have struck some bad spots already."
A few additional words passed, and then all of the boys rode along the trail as the cowboy had pointed out. Jim Jones, standing beside the dead steer, watched them out of sight and chuckled loudly to himself.
"Reckon I squared accounts with 'em," he muttered. "Got twenty-five dollars in cash and the animile, and if they foller thet trail as I told 'em—well, there ain't no tellin' where they'll fotch up. But it won't be Denton's ranch, not by a long shot!" and he laughed heartily to himself.
All unconscious that they had been wrongly directed by Jim Jones, the Rover boys and their chums continued their journey. When they reached the hemlock that had been struck by lightning, they took to the other path as directed.
"I am sorry I didn't ask how far that town was," said Dick. "For all we know, we may be miles away from it."