Poynter, by dint of cautious creeping, managed to gain a dense clump of bushes at only a few yards in the rear of their position, where he crouched down with his weapons ready for instant use, in case he should be discovered. But they gave no sign of suspecting an intruder, and conversed in an easy, careless style, very much to Poynter's edification. The first of this he missed, owing to the task he had to perform, but then he listened intently.
"Well," Polk Redlaw was saying, "they did not suspect any person was following them, although I kept them in sight the entire distance. And that was no slouch of a job either, for they were in a lope most of the way, and I began to be pretty well blown before they gave any signs of halting.
"But then they paused and a signal was sounded; and from the reply I knew that I had dogged them home. And I was right, for in another ten minutes the whole crowd was gathered in a huddle, unsaddling their horses, while a dozen or so more were building fires as if the entire country belonged to them.
"I lay low, taking notes, and I saw enough in the next hour to satisfy me that I had really tracked them to the den of the horse-thieves; for there were several tents and regular fireplaces fixed up, while the ground was tramped hard and dry."
"And where was that?" inquired Sprowl, curiously.
"Well, you'll let it go no further, of course," added Redlaw, after a slight pause. "You know where Han Hooker killed the big bear, last fall? near the 'Turkey branch'? Just due west along the creek about a quarter, is the spot.
"But as I was spying around, a cursed dog somehow got scent of me, and as I saw him circling around, I lit out, for if they had found me there, the d—l himself couldn't 'a' saved my hide. I cut sticks in a hurry, as I got out of their hearing, but the brute took my trail, and in a few moments I could hear him coming, hot foot, growling like a painter.
"I was afraid to burn powder, so I just hunkered down behind a big rock, and drew my butcher. As the imp turned the corner, I grabbed his nose and twisted him down; then a cut or two and he was quiet enough.
"But I'd seen enough, so I started for home, with the dog on my shoulder—for I was afraid to leave him where the knife-cuts might 'a' told tales—and carried him until at a safe distance, when I dropped him over the bank into the creek. And there my infernal luck still followed me, for his claw caught in my shirt and over I went, head-first, plump onto the rocks.
"Luckily my head took the dog for a pillow, and only got a little bruised and stunned like; but when I came to I found that my right ankle was either broken or badly sprained. I managed to climb up to the level, although every motion nearly made me yell out, but there I was stuck!