"Sure thing, Tom."
"Well, Dick, you and Dave have had a lively time, all right," remarked Bob, reflectively. "Now, we have to think of a way to throw those fellows off the track; it won't be so easy. Smull and Griffin are pretty desperate men. Suppose we do as much traveling by night as we can, eh?"
"Bully idea," agreed Dick. "Cæsar, but this is an exciting life. Don't let's waste a minute."
The seven looked carefully around; but the country appeared absolutely deserted. There were many ridges and clumps of trees, however, which could easily have concealed their trackers.
By noon the gray expanse of cloud was rapidly sweeping away, and shafts of sunlight blazed through the openings. The boys took but little time to eat, pushing rapidly on toward the hills, and at sundown the rolling swells of the valley had been crossed and they were encamped in the midst of a wild-looking range.
A small fire was built in the shadow of an enormous boulder, and when dusk fell the glowing embers were stamped out. The group sat about in utter darkness, listening to the dismal howls of a pack of coyotes and the mysterious sounds from a near-by wood, strangely clear in the silence of the night.
With Bob Somers on guard, the others finally turned in and slept until the moon was rising above the hills. Then, aroused, they quickly saddled their ponies and vaulted upon their backs.
A clear, silvery radiance enveloped the landscape, but shadows in ravines were deep and gloomy. They soon reached a dreary, marshy stretch lying between two hills. Tall, tangled grasses and stagnant pools sent their rank odor floating over the air, while the clear, brilliant moon was mirrored in sharp, metallic dashes upon ooze and water. As they passed through, a long-legged water-bird rose before them with a startled cry.
On hard ground again, the travelers allowed the bronchos to choose their own pace.
"Hold up, thar!"