"I don't see how they could get on the track of it," Joe remarked.
"Did it ever occur to you that they might have followed you at a distance when you came down from the mountain?" inquired Mr. Warren.
Yes, the boys had thought of that, and it had kept them on nettles. But they were never off their guard, held their guns ready for instant use, and faced about whenever they head the slightest sound. If the men were on their trail, why did they not rush up and grab the valise?
"Because they did not care to face the bullets and bird-shot that were in those guns—that's the reason," answered Mr. Warren. "They will not do anything openly; I am not at all afraid of that. But I am afraid that they will be full of life and action when night comes. Perhaps, after all, you boys had better bring your things down and stay at home, until the sheriff has had opportunity to take those fellows into custody. Joe, I give you an order to that effect."
"I don't much like the idea of deserting my post on account of imaginary dangers," replied Joe.
"That's the idea; neither do I!" exclaimed Tom.
"It's my opinion that your Uncle Hallet will be quite positive on that point," said Mr. Warren, who laughed heartily when he saw the expression of disappointment and disgust that overspread the faces of the young game-wardens.
"If he is, I'll kick, I bet you!" declared Tom.
"And much good will that do you. Now, Tom, be a good boy, and do a little errand for me. Go out to the barn and tell Fred to hitch the blacks to the canopy top. Then we'll all ride down to Uncle Hallet's and see what he thinks of this morning's work."
Depositing his double barrel in one corner of the hall, Tom hastened out to comply with this request, and Mr. Warren addressed himself to Bob and Joe.