“Well!” said Dig slowly. “What shall we do now? Going to leave these fellows tied up for the wolves to eat?”
“Hey!” shouted Tony. “Don’t you do that. There are wolves about.”
Chet picked up Tony’s old rifle and noted its make and calibre. Then he looked at the long barreled pistol they had taken away from the other man. There were no other weapons in the possession of the two scoundrels.
“We’ll untie them, I reckon, and let them up,” Chet said slowly. “Nothing else to do that I can see. But I want you fellows to understand,” he added, facing the men, “that we both carry rifles that will outshoot this old piece of junk,” and he tapped Tony’s gun, “by about an eighth of a mile. Don’t come fooling around our camp again, for if you do we’ll shoot,” and he said it in a tone that carried conviction.
Neither of the men said a word as the boys carefully removed the strong ropes. Then Dig picked up their possessions, and carried them to a distance yet not so far away that the light of the campfire could not be seen. Later he brought the horses and the rifles.
When the rifles were in their hands Chet agreed to leave the scoundrels alone. But he advised the men to keep a bright fire going for the rest of the night.
“If we see it die down at all,” Chet threatened grimly, “whichever of us is awake will be very apt to send a bullet or two over here to wake you up. Come on, Dig,” and he walked backwards out of the rascals’ camp.
The boys cooked and ate a hearty supper—and they needed it. Chet sat so that he could see into the rascals’ camp and he kept the heavy rifle beside him. Of course, had the two men begun stirring around, he would only have fired into the tree-tops to scare them; but as he told Digby, a firm stand was necessary.
“And where they go, we go,” Chet Havens declared. “They have lost the deeds, without much doubt. But they’ll go to look for them. That Steve will remember where he dropped them.”
“Do you mean to tag around after those chaps?” gasped his chum.