“But that territory, over there across the Hay, is patrolled by men from the Peace River Detachment,” Sandy objected.
Dick rose quickly to his feet, hugging himself in sheer ecstasy.
“I have it! I have it!” he cried. “You’re right! He’s from the Peace River Detachment. They received my wire. I’m willing to bet on it. It’s someone after Creel.”
For a time Sandy caught the infection of the other’s enthusiasm but, after mature deliberation, he became more serious again.
“No; you’re wrong. The police haven’t had time to come up from Peace River Crossing since you wired them.”
“This man might have been on patrol somewhere between here and the Crossing. They probably got in touch with him; wired back, I mean. Sent him out on Creel’s trail.”
“A possibility, of course. I wonder if we couldn’t signal to him?”
The suggestion interested Dick for a time. Then caution warned him that it was not a very good plan after all. It might lead to complications.
“No, we’d better let things remain as they are. Whatever we do, we mustn’t let Emery and Burnnel know that we are here.”
“Very well, then,” Sandy agreed, “we’ll go back to our ponies. It shouldn’t be long now before the outlaws commence to ford the river.”