Stacy shook his head.
“You can’t inquire into what ain’t, can you?” he demanded.
“No, and that is the reason you have never been the subject of an inquiry,” flung back Emma sharply.
At this juncture, Jim and Sam began to wrangle, each accusing the other of being to blame for the mess their party had gotten into, but the Overlanders were too much concerned with their own troubles to laugh at the argument of the guides.
A few moments later the Overland party came within sight of their camp. Someone, probably men of the “Circle O” ranch, had built up the campfire and could be seen moving about there.
As a matter of prudence, before leaving camp that evening, the Riders had hidden their rifles and ammunition, as they were in the habit of doing. Their revolvers they wore, for experience had taught them that it was the wise thing to do in a wild country, or in sections where there were ruffians such as they had encountered in the Coso Valley.
“Is everything all right?” called Hippy as they came up to the camp.
“No. Everything’s all wrong,” answered Bindloss savagely. “I’ll kill somebody for this.”
“What happened?” begged Grace.
“My night rangers discovered some fellows fooling about your camp, and knowin’ you was at the ranch-house, because one of ’em had watched you to see what you were doing, he looked a little closer and saw the prowlers nosing into your property. That was Idaho Jones. Idaho fired three shots at the fellows, and that called our other rangers nearby, who rode in hot-foot, but the prowlers skipped before they got in, though not before Jones had taken a few pot shots at them. The thieves got away, but one of the fellows says Jones was certain that he hit one of them.”