“But the birds didn’t steal my horse,” exclaimed Archie.
“I aint sayin’ they did,” returned Dick. “I know well enough that your hosses were stole by men, ’cause I seed the prints of their feet in front of this yere very door. I know which way they went, too, fur me an’ old Bob tracked em.”
“You did?” cried Frank. “Then why didn’t you follow them up, and catch them?”
“’Cause we couldn’t; that’s the reason. It’s a leetle the queerest thing I ever hearn tell on.”
“What is?” asked all the boys in a breath. They began to get interested and excited now, for the trapper’s mysterious manner indicated that he had some great secret to communicate.
“I haint sartin that I had oughter say any thing about it,” replied Dick. “It’s something I can’t begin to see through, an’ that’s the reason I haint told your uncle of it. You ’member when Mr. Winters lost them two hosses of his’n, don’t you? Wal, the next mornin’ me an’ ole Bob tracked ’em nigh onto five miles, an’ finally lost their trail about a hundred yards from the creek that flows on this side of Don Carlos’ rancho. Thar war the prints of their hoofs in the soft ’arth, as plain as bar’s ears, an’ thar the trail ended. Now, where did them two hosses go to? That’s what I want to know.”
“Perhaps they turned up or down the creek to find a ford,” said Frank.
“They couldn’t have done that without leavin’ a trail, could they? It was a good hundred yards to the creek, as I told you, an’ me an’ Bob sarched every inch of the ground, but couldn’t find the print of a single hoof.”
“The robbers may have doubled on their trail, for the purpose of throwing you off the scent,” suggested Johnny.
“I don’t reckon that men who have hunted wild Injuns an’ varmints as long as me an’ Bob have, could be fooled by sich a trick as that ar’,” replied the trapper. “I have since found out all about it, youngsters. Them hosses didn’t make no more trail; that’s the reason we couldn’t foller ’em.”