“Most likely the fellow who'd mind Duff best.”
“That must mean poor George Ashby.”
“Let's slip into the gully and see what we can find.”
One fact learned in the gully astonished both investigators. Despite the volleys that had been fired no dead or wounded men lay about. Of course Hawkins could have taken any injured men away in the automobiles. Plainly the raiders had been equally fortunate in getting their wounded away on their horses. Mounted men familiar with the desert would know many paths where horses could travel, but where automobiles could not follow.
“Our hosses are gone,” discovered Jeff a few moments.
“Of course,” nodded Rafe. “The crowd we were out with wouldn't be slow in a simple little piece of every-day honesty like stealing hosses!”
“I'm through with any such gang after this, Rafe. How about you?”
“I'm shore going to be careful about the kind of company I pick. But, Jeff, we'll have to travel away from these parts. No good company around here would welcome us. They wouldn't like the only references we could give, Jeff.”
“Oh, shore, we'll have to travel,” agreed Moore. “That is, if the sheriff doesn't take up our tickets before we get started.”
“All this talk isn't showing us what became of Reade and Hazelton,” remarked Rafe Bodson. “Let's go back under the trees and see if we can find what has become of Reade and Hazelton. Before I change my post-office box I'm going to try to do those two youngsters a good turn.”