"I guess you are right, Blinky," said the rancher sadly, sitting down upon an outcropping rock.
He flicked his riding boots meditatively for some seconds with his rawhide quirt, which he still carried, and then spoke.
"Boys," he said, addressing the little party, "those Moquis have carried off Rob. There's no doubt of that. The question now is, shall we follow them up, or shall we go back and get the ponies, and thus lose valuable time? I think it only fair to tell you that I am for going forward."
"I guess there's no need to take a vote, Mr. Harkness," smiled Merritt, gazing at the determined faces of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol. Every member of the body was there. Harry and the telephone had seen to that as soon as they had made certain that Rob had been carried off.
"We've got enough to eat with us," put in Tubby, "so there's no reason why we shouldn't go ahead."
As Tubby said, the party had brought rations with them which, though not very plentiful, were enough to last until they struck a further food supply.
"Then forward it is," said Mr. Harkness.
"Ye-ow!" yelled the cow-punchers.
The boys joined in their wild shouts, but their enthusiastic start was suddenly thrown into silence by an unexpected incident. Hoof beats sounded on the trail, and as everybody turned expectantly in the direction from whence the sound had proceeded, they were astonished to see two ponies emerge, carrying three men.
The new arrivals were Clark Jennings and Bill Bender, and, seated behind the latter, Hank Handcraft. The faces of all three took on a guilty, confused air as they perceived that, instead of riding, as they had expected, into a camp of Moquis, they had unexpectedly encountered the last persons whom at that particular moment they wanted to meet.