“We’ll ride!” went on the owner of the camels. “Wait, I’ll show you how.”
He made two of the beasts kneel down and he climbed up on the back of one and Pep got on the back of the other. Then the boys lost no time in finding their way through the marsh once more. Several times they looked back, but saw nothing of any pursuers.
They breathed more freely as, four hours later, they came within sight of the Bacon place. The camels in their cumbersome but steady way had kept up a tramp without a single halt.
There was a startled scream from the kitchen of the Bacon homestead as its mistress caught sight of the camels walking into the yard and approaching the water trough. From the direction of the fields Pep saw Mr. Bacon and his two sons scampering towards them, attracted by a distant sight of the unfamiliar intruders.
They had just reached the center of activity and Pep had barely made them understand the situation, when two horsemen came dashing along the road they had just followed.
One of them rode the piebald horse that had been so often described to the boys during their search for its owner.
“You’ve stolen our camels!” shouted its rider, leaping to the ground. “Slip the chain hooks on ’em, Ben,” he spoke to his companion.
“They are mine!” cried Vic. “You stole them once. You’d better leave them alone and be off, or you’ll get yourself in a whole heap of trouble.”
“No, he won’t be off,” sounded a grim voice, and Farmer Bacon, who had momentarily run into the house, now ran out of it. He held a double-barreled shotgun in his hand.
“See here, what is this your business?” demanded the first movies man.