Bending over, he followed the tracks with the minutest care, then suddenly straightened up with an exclamation.
A bit further along, partly hidden by tall grass, he saw several dark objects. In his eagerness he almost leaped toward them.
“Great Scott—a bridle an’ saddle!” he exclaimed. “But where is the horse they belong to? This is another mystery. And, by George, it’s a hummer!”
Dragging the saddle to a smoother piece of ground, he began to examine it. Then, as though something had struck him a blow, he straightened up and almost staggered back.
He had seen that particular saddle before.
“It can’t be possible,” he gasped—“it can’t be!”
Eager and with trembling hands he looked it over again. Now, all doubts were stilled. It belonged to a Rambler,—and that Rambler was Tom Clifton.
CHAPTER XV
CAPTURED
When Tom Clifton realized the danger that confronted him he was so taken by surprise that it was several seconds before he had recovered sufficient presence of mind to leap aside.
“Hold on—hold on!” he yelled. “Who are you?”