“Shouldn’t wonder a bit if it goes to some cabin or house,” he said to himself. “Perhaps it would pay to investigate.”
He wheeled sharply about, then rode slowly along, examining every foot of the way with the keenest attention. In several places the earth was considerably cut up by horses’ hoofs, some of the imprints having a fresh appearance.
“Good—good!” cried Bob.
The trail presently led over a slope, through a patch of woods, and kept luring him on until he soon found himself deep among the hills again. On a rocky stretch all traces vanished, but a careful search revealed it further along.
At last, turning into a dark and narrow gorge, the Rambler suddenly reined up with an exclamation.
Between leafy openings in the trees his keen eyes had caught sight of a log cabin. Yes, there was a cabin—somebody’s home. Triumphantly he gazed upon it.
“I’ve found something, anyway,” he whispered softly. “But what a curious idea to build in such an out-of-the-way place! I wonder if——”
He paused. Suppose the occupants of the cabin should prove to be some of the rough and dangerous characters Teddy Banes had spoken about?
“Guess I’d better go a bit slow on this,” he reflected, picketing his horse behind a clump of bushes.
Presently he stole ahead almost as silently as an Indian.