“Now, hold your broncs, youngsters,” warned Coyote, “in the fust place we dunno how many of them there be, and in the second we dunno jus’ whar they air. Am I right?”
“Indeed, yes,” said the professor. “Boys, you should not be so impetuous. Julius Caesar, when he——”
“Dunno the gent,” struck in Pete, “but my advice is to kind of hunt around this vicinity and maybe we’ll find some more clews. Go easy, now, boys, and make as little noise as possible.”
A few moments later the ashes of the camp fire near which Jack had so suddenly alighted were found, but of the outlaws no trace remained. As a matter of fact, Ramon’s shouts had attracted them, and as soon as they had rescued him the camp had been abandoned in a hurry. It did not suit Ramon just then to try conclusions with the Border Boys.
“Wall, here’s whar they camped,” muttered Coyote Pete, “we certainly had some close neighbors last night.”
The boys examined the camp site with interest, while the professor and Coyote Pete conversed earnestly apart. At the conclusion of their confab, Coyote Pete spoke.
“It’s up to us to go forward, boys,” he said. “Ain’t no use lingering ’bout these diggin’s.”
“But mayn’t the bad men have turned back down the canyon?” asked Ralph.