"Den vot of der Rofer poys?" asked the German youth.
"Don't ask me," said the detective. "They may have escaped, or else—"
He did not finish.
"Do you mean those rascals might leave them in the ranch, prisoners?" asked Songbird.
"It's a hard thing to say, but you know as mush as I do. This knocks my last plan endways. I must see if I can't get on the trail of the gang that has run away," James Monday added. "Will you let me have one of the horses?"
"Certainly. But—"
"Unless I act quickly, those men may get miles and miles away, and then it will be next to impossible to round them up," continued the government official. "I must go after Fred Garrison and hurry along that extra help."
"Where shall we meet you?"
"I can't tell, exactly. We might—Hullo, what's that?"
A peculiar sound close at hand caused the detective to pause. They heard a flat rock fall down, and then, to their amazement, saw two dirty and begrimed persons emerge from a hole in the ground.
"Who vos dot?" gasped Hans, ready to retreat in fright.