“Not so sure. They might have crept up on you and knocked you on the head.”
“Instead of which that old Betsy gun had to knock me over. Just as bad. It knocked me out for the time being, and those scoundrels got away.”
“They must have been close in, watching you and me, when you started around the pond,” Chet explained. “We know what Tony is—a bad man. The fellow with him is probably worse. They wouldn’t think anything of knocking us both out if they hadn’t got what they wanted without.”
“Well, what’s done is done,” Dig said mournfully. “Now what shall we do?”
“We can’t do much till daylight. It’s no fun following a horse trail in the night—and those horses started on the gallop. They will be tiring their mounts out while ours are resting. We’ll lose nothing by waiting till dawn,” Chet said, with confidence.
CHAPTER XXII—AFTER THE THIEVES
Digby was strongly disgusted with himself. He felt that, to a degree, he was to be blamed for both raids upon their camp.
“The first time I fell plumb asleep,” he said. “And now I went away from the fire for a foolish reason. Just for a drink! But I declare, Chet, I don’t believe I would have done it if I’d known there was any reason to suspect a return of those thieves.”
“I blame myself, Dig. I should have told you,” admitted Chet.
“Just the same, maybe I wouldn’t have believed you. To think of a man’s coming right into the camp and taking those papers out of your shirt!”