“I’m glad you put your answers in that way,” replied Kit Carson with a smile. “I’m glad you’re going, and you’ll soon find out where I’m going. First of all, take me to the place where you told Rat there was one of our caches.”
Both trappers carried their rifles and mounting the swiftest ponies, they speedily departed from the camp. Reuben easily led the way toward the place where he and Rat had stopped for their noontime meal and where also he had foolishly told the braggart that one of the caches was not far away.
Reuben was not surprised when an hour later, after they had arrived at the place they were seeking, he discovered that the hiding-place had been opened and that many furs had been removed. It was plain, too, from the marks left by the feet of the horses nearby, as to what disposition had been made of the stolen furs. The anger of Reuben was intense, but to his noisy protests no response was made by Kit Carson, whose quiet manner was still unchanged.
“There’s nothing for us to do, lad,” suggested the scout, “except to go after the rascal and get our skins.”
Already convinced that this was the purpose of the scout in coming, Reuben made no response except to quicken the speed at which his horse was moving and do his utmost to follow the scout when they set forth on their journey.
They already had taken the precaution of providing supplies sufficient for two days, although Kit Carson was depending upon game to provide much of their food.
Occasionally the scout paused to examine the ground and try to discover the imprints left by the feet of Rat’s horses. Frequently the trail was almost lost, but Kit Carson, after circling the spot and carefully examining the ground, every time succeeded in discovering the signs for which he was searching, and then with increased speed the pursuit was renewed.
Reuben was thinking of what would occur if the scout should overtake the burly boaster. The quiet determination expressed in Kit’s face plainly indicated what was in his mind. And the thief would be overtaken soon, Reuben was convinced, because when Rat had fled, although he had taken Black Jack, swiftest of all the ponies in the camp, the speed at which he was fleeing could not be greater than the pace of the horses which were following him and carrying the stolen furs on their backs.
[CHAPTER XXVIII—THE RETURN]
In spite of the efforts of the scout, two days elapsed before any signs of the immediate presence of the thief were discovered. And even then he was not positive that the huge Rat was near at hand.