“Then we’ll cross here and keep right on. We’ll bear off gradually toward the regular trail to Grub Stake. I bet we pick up the trace of these two rascals before long.”
“Long head! Long head!” declared Dig admiringly. “Come on! these horses will drink so much water they’ll be water-logged and can’t travel. Hike out o’ there, Poke, you villain!”
The boys cantered through the shoals and out upon the other bank. When they reached the upper edge of the river bank Chet rose in his stirrups and swept the plain all about for some sign of moving objects. The thieves had not taken his field-glasses, for they had been in the pocket of his saddle.
A little to the northwest, but far, far away, the boy saw two black specks. They did not look bigger than buzzards, but Chet Havens thought they were the mounted men. He passed the glasses to Dig.
“Look at them, old man,” he said. “We don’t want to chase way over there for nothing.”
“Whew!” quoth Dig. “We couldn’t go for nothing, Chet. Either they are the men we are after, or it’s game that we need. Don’t overlook the fact that we’ve got to eat. Chewing dry coffee, nor yet drinking condensed milk, doesn’t appeal to me.”
“I don’t know but you’re right,” agreed Chet. “Much as I want to overtake those miserable thieves, we must not overlook the fact that we have to eat to live.”
“That sounds good,” grinned Dig. “Mother says I just live to eat. There is a difference.”
The boys rode on, but the two objects they had seen disappeared in a coulie. Later they saw them and identified them as two grazing animals.
“Of course, not the buffaloes,” said Chet doubtfully.