"What now?"
"He has taken one of the horses, too!"
Allen was right, the best of the horses was gone.
"He ain't got much o' a start," said Watson. "So let us git arfter him hot-footed."
"I am with you on that, Watson; he must not get away under any circumstances. If he does——"
"We won't be able to git on the trail o' yer uncle."
"That's it."
Both were soon in the saddle, and shouted back to Noel to keep the fire burning and wait for their return. Then away they dashed into the midnight darkness.
The storm still continued and the rain poured down with a steadiness that was dismal enough to contemplate. But to the discomfort Allen gave scant heed.
"He must not get away," he said, to himself, over and over again. "We must capture him and make him take us to where the gang have Uncle Barnaby a prisoner."