“Come here, Western. Folks, this is Western Jones thet came along with me to help lead the string of ponies. Glad now thet I fetched him. West, please stake down the ponies. Now you folks tell me every little thing thet’s happened, so I can get a line on this business.”
The girls told the old stagecoach driver of the occurrences of the night when he left for Globe, of the picnic, of Emma’s disappearance and of Grace’s having gone in search of her.
“We’ve got to find ’em, thet’s all,” declared Ike, after a moment’s thought. “Tell you what we’ll do. The lieutenant and I’ll take two ponies and lead ’em until we pick up the trail, then we’ll ride as far up the canyon as we can an’ walk the rest of the way. We’ll send the ponies back if we have to. They’ll come right back so long as the others are staked here.”
“What about guarding the camp?” questioned Lieutenant Wingate.
“Western Jones can do thet. West, how’d you like a little brush with some of thet Con Bates gang?” demanded Ike, grinning.
“Sweeter’n wild honey,” grinned Western. “Is it them as has done this trick?”
“I reckon mebby it is. We don’t know for shore. Mebby Apaches, for all I know.”
“Leave ’em to me,” grinned Western Jones.
“Then you keep these gals right here in this camp, an’ don’t you let a one of ’em get away till I come back. Got the makin’s of a light, Lieutenant, or have I got to carry a torch to light the way?”
“I have a flash lamp.”