They could hear voices of the advancing party, and presently could make out words.
“I tell you, they've got to come in on this road, Slim,” one of the men was saying dogmatically. “We're bound to meet up with them. That's all there is to it.”
“Yorky,” whispered Howard, in the ranger's ear.
They rode past in pairs, six of them in all. As chance would have it, Siegfried's pony, perhaps recognizing a friend among those passing, nickered shrilly its greeting. Instantly, the riders drew up.
“Where did that come from?” Yorky asked, in a low voice.
“From over to the right. I see men there now See! Up against that hill.” Slim pointed toward the group in the shadow.
Yorky hailed them. “That you, Sig?”
“Yuh bane von good guesser,” answered the Norwegian.
“How many of you are there?”
“Four, Yorky,” Fraser replied.