“Yes, I think so,” agreed Grace. “Before it is too late let’s see if we can find the ponies. I will go with you. Lieutenant, will you please stay here and watch the camp?”
“Yes, but what are you going to do, Brown Eyes?” questioned Hippy.
“I am going with Mr. Fairweather,” flung back Grace, who already was running to catch up with Ike, he having strode away too excited for words. Not a word was exchanged between them until they reached the tethering ground, when Grace suggested that he use her flash lamp, which she handed to him.
For the following few minutes, Ike Fairweather uttered nothing but grunts, now and then pointing to the ground as he followed the faintly discernible hoof-prints of their ponies down to the creek. There the trail turned and followed along the bank of the stream for a short distance, whence it took a turn toward the Apache Trail, which Grace and Ike reached shortly afterwards.
“There! See thet!” Ike pointed down to the Apache Trail, on which a beam from the flash lamp was resting.
“I see horse tracks, if that is what you mean, sir. I suppose they are the tracks of our ponies, and if so, they appear to be headed towards Globe.”
“They shore are, Miss. Listen! While I was chasin’ the fellow thet was prowlin’ ’bout the camp, three other galoots was stealin’ the ponies. I found the men’s tracks back there, an’ you can see ’em right here on the trail. What them critters have done is to start your ponies towards home, an’ the horses prob’ly are a long ways from here this very minute. We shore are in a fix. What do you reckon on doin’ ’bout it?” demanded Ike, caressing his whiskers and regarding his companion questioningly.
“Suppose we return to camp and talk it over,” suggested Grace.
Ike nodded, and they started back toward the camp. Reaching there, Grace quickly explained to her companions what had occurred, and asked if any one had a suggestion to offer as to what should be done in the emergency.
“Do you think the ponies will go all the way to Globe?” asked Lieutenant Wingate.