"No more mystery about what's become of our ponies," growled Shaw, giving relief to his feelings in a torrent of curses.
"You mean Red took them?" queried Jennings.
"My, but you're getting to be the quick little thinker."
"Well, if he did, I'd like to know the trick. Red's cute, I know, yet it's some stunt to get three horses up a mountain on a dark night without leaving any trail."
"Oh, we'll be able to learn how it was done when it gets lighter. Now, let's get back to the boulder before Red swipes our rifles, blankets and saddles while our backs are turned."
"Lot of good our saddles will do us now," grunted Jennings. "Red might as well have taken 'em."'
The silence of his comrades, deeply ashamed that they should have been tricked of their horses without even knowing it, gave Scotty the first chance to speak since the discovery of the man on the rock and he lost no time in making the most of it.
"But that can't be Red Rogers, he's in jail!" he exclaimed.
"Was, you mean," corrected Shaw, with a feeble attempt at raillery. "I didn't know he'd got out. But no other man than Red Rogers ever had hair and beard like that."
"What would he want of our horses, and how'd he know we were here anyway?" asked Scotty.