CHAPTER XXXI. — ON THE MOUNTAIN PATH.
My readers will not have forgotten Bill Mosely and his companion Tom Hadley, who played the mean trick upon Bradley and our hero of stealing their horses. I should be glad to state that they were overtaken and punished within twenty-four hours, but it would not be correct. They had a great advantage over their pursuers, who had only their own feet to help them on, and, at the end of the first day, were at least ten miles farther on than Ben and Bradley.
As the two last, wearied and well-nigh exhausted, sat down to rest, Bradley glanced about him long and carefully in all directions.
"I can't see anything of them skunks, Ben," he said.
"I suppose not, Jake. They must be a good deal farther on."
"Yes, I reckon so. They've got the horses to help them, while we've got to foot it. It was an awful mean trick they played on us."
"That's so, Jake."
"All I ask is to come up with 'em some of these days."
"What would you do?"
"I wouldn't take their lives, for I ain't no murderer, but I'd tie 'em hand and foot, and give 'em a taste of a horsewhip, or a switch, till they'd think they was schoolboys again."