“That wasn’t your fault. We’ve been careful enough.”
Corporal Rand threw back his blankets and commenced to dress.
“Do you remember, Dick,” he resumed, “when we passed the first trapper’s shack on the trail this side of Dominion Range, and Toma called our attention to the three ponies?”
Dick nodded.
“You may recall,” Rand went on, “that the presence of the ponies there puzzled me. Subsequently the thing was repeated at other trappers’ cabins along the route we were travelling. Now, as I look back upon it all, I’m ashamed of my stupidity, I should have known right away what was taking place.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”
“The ponies were part of the pack-train. The furs were unloaded at various places along the line. As the pack-train progressed, it became smaller, until, finally, nothing was left of it. That explains many things. It explains why we have been unable to overtake the outlaws. Murky’s precious shipment is scattered along the trail over a distance of twenty miles.”
“What a trick!” Dick exclaimed. “Pretty clever ruse, wasn’t it? The outlaws must have known all the time that we were following them. It took a genius to think of a plan like that.”
“I don’t believe they knew we were following them,” stated the corporal. “It’s probably the usual procedure, inaugurated by Murky himself. Nichols does not feel safe with all of his eggs in one basket. He doesn’t believe in taking unnecessary risks. The trappers who live along the trail, where we saw the ponies, are probably in his employ—really not trappers at all. They guard the caches of stolen fur.”
Rand paused for a moment, then continued: