"There comes Spike and the boys," Slats cried.
"But we can't wait for them," Jeb told him.
"Course not, but what's the plan?" Slats asked.
"It's too dry to trail him, I'm afraid so I think we'd better split up and go in by twos. We'll keep within a short distance of each other however, and two shots close together will be the signal to come a-running."
"Righto, let's beat it," Slats agreed.
They had hardly started again when they met the horse Royce had ridden coming out and they decided that it would be better to leave the horses as they believed they could make better time on foot and there would be less danger of discovery. So they tied them to convenient trees and started off on foot after Jeb had explained that the first to catch sight of Royce was to notify the others by giving the hoot of the owl, the signal of the shots to be used only in case of an emergency.
Royce had entered the forest at a point about half way between the trail which led to the Owl's Head and that which they had taken the day before in company with the sheriff. It was the most rugged appearing portion of the range and, as Bob and Jack pushed their way in, it seemed to be getting ever rougher. There was nothing which even remotely resembled a trail and huge boulders interspersed with dense underbrush made their progress decidedly difficult.
"I say, Bob, this seems kind of foolish to me," Jack panted after they had been separated from the others for some ten minutes.
"How come?" Bob asked.
"Well the whole thing seems fishy to me."