Working quickly and silently, the boy ranchers soon released their ponies from the tethering ropes and managed to mount them, though it was not easy, owing to the lack of stirrups. But eventually they were on the backs of their mounts, and, looping a bight of the rope around the heads of Blaze and Blackie, made a sort of bridle.
Luckily the animals were not hard to guide, and a little later Dick and Nort were urging them along on the grass-covered ground, which provided so soft a cushion for their feet that scarcely a sound resulted.
"I think we're going to make it!" whispered Dick to Nort as they moved along, the horses climbing up out of the swale in which the mysterious camp was located. The moonlight gleamed down on the white tents, including the one from which the boys had cut their way.
"Don't be too sure—don't crow—we're not out on the open range yet," cautioned Nort, this time less inclined to haste than was Dick.
But their departure did not seem to be noticed. Any noise the horses made must have been covered by the lowing, snorting and occasional bellowing of the cattle in the corral.
And so it came about that Dick and Nort, by the exercise of their wits, with which our American youth are so richly endowed, had outwitted their enemies. Though why they should have been detained as prisoners they could not fathom.
"Guess we can take it a little faster now, can't we?" asked Dick, as they came to a fairly level, open place. The mysterious camp was now out of sight, though not out of mind.
"Yes, we can chance it, though without a saddle and bridle we are taking a chance."
The boys were never so glad as now that they knew fairly well how to ride, and that their steeds were not like many of the wilder western horses. Blaze and Blackie seemed to know that their young masters were at a disadvantage, and they trotted along as though under full guidance.
"I wonder what it all means—back there?" voiced Dick, as he rode along beside his brother. Nort did not have to ask what Dick referred to—it was the mystery camp.