"We aren't going to discover much this day," observed Bud, as he rode slowly along between Nort and d.i.c.k.

"Why, did you see a black rabbit?" Nort asked, remembering what had happened when a similar incident occurred, just before the strange events narrated in the chapter preceding this.

"No, I didn't see a black jack," Bud answered. "But it won't be long until dark, for we don't get the full benefit of the afternoon sun down in this gorge. And we can't do anything except by daylight. No use looking for sign in the dark."

"That's right," agreed Nort. "But I was afraid it was a black rabbit you'd seen."

"As if we didn't have enough bad luck without that," commented d.i.c.k. "It's as bad, losing your herd as it is not to have enough water to give 'em what they need," and he referred to the time when, by the efforts of this same Del Pinzo, the supply for the reservoir of Happy Valley was cut off.

"Oh, well, it might be worse," observed Bud, with a sort of cheerful, philosophical air, for he was of rather a happy disposition.

"How?" asked Snake, for he was rather "sore" because Del Pinzo and the rustlers had escaped. Perhaps Snake felt that he might have gone in and captured the outlaws single-handed when he was on the lone spying expedition.

"Well, I might never have had any cattle for those fellows to steal," went on Bud. "But say, boys," he went on, as they came to a place where the trail seemed to divide. "Let's take this other road back. It looks a bit easier, and we want to favor the ponies all we can."

"Go ahead," advised Slim, to whom Bud looked for confirmation of his plan. "Anything that makes it easier for th' horses makes it more sure for us. And we may have a long hunt ahead of us."

The care taken by the boy ranchers and their friends of their animals was not exaggerated, nor unusual. In the West so much depends on a man's horse--his comfort and very life, often--that it is a foolish fellow, indeed, who will not bestow at least some thought and care on his horse. The animal becomes a trusted companion and friend to the cowboys and prospectors.

So, in order, as he hoped, to provide an easier means of getting back to the place they wished to reach, Bud led the way along a different trail on the retreat.

It was practically a retreat, though one they had selected for themselves, since the outlaws had distanced them.

It was rather a dejected bunch of boy ranchers and their friends that were now back-trailing. There was not much talk, after the excitement of the attack which had "petered out," and even Bud, gay and cheerful as he usually was, now seemed to have little to say.

It was d.i.c.k who startled them all by suddenly exclaiming:

"Look ahead there! Isn't that a man on the trail?" He, with Nort and Bud were in advance of the others. d.i.c.k pointed toward the place where he thought he saw something suspicious.

"I don't glimpse anything," observed Nort.

"Nor I," said his cousin.

"He's gone now," d.i.c.k stated. "But I did see some one, and I'm almost sure it was a Greaser. Looked just like one of their hats."

"What is it!" called Slim, for he caught s.n.a.t.c.hes of the rather excited talk of the boys.

"d.i.c.k thought he saw one of the Del Pinzo gang," answered Bud.

"Maybe he's the fellow I cracked on the head," suggested Snake.

For they had lost sight of that individual in the mad rush into the canyon, and had not seen him when they turned back.

"Say, wouldn't it be a good thing to capture him?" asked Bud eagerly. "We could make him tell where the others are, and where our cattle are hidden."

"If we can get him," conceded Slim.

"There he is again!" cried d.i.c.k. "Come on, fellows!"

Disregarding, or forgetting the travel-weary horses, the ranch lad urged his own steed ahead at as rapid a pace as the animal could be induced to develop in a spurt.

"Take it easy!" advised Nort to his brother, but he might as well have called to the wind, for d.i.c.k was off and away.

"I don't see anything!" cried Bud, and though he had looked eagerly forward at d.i.c.k's call he had glimpsed neither hat nor face of any personage who might be suspected of being one of the Del Pinzo gang.

But, even with that, Bud was not going to miss a chance to be in at the finish of whatever was about to happen, so he spurred his animal forward.

"Come on, boys!" cried Slim to his comrades. "We can't let those youngsters tackle this game alone--'specially when if there's one of the rustlers there may be more. _p.r.o.nto_!"

He galloped forward, as did the others, along the new trail that Bud had suggested taking. But d.i.c.k was in the lead, and, in a few seconds, was out of sight beyond an outcropping ledge of rock, which narrowed the trail at this particular point.

"Watch your step there, boys!" cried Snake, as he saw What was likely to prove a bad turning. "I don't see how d.i.c.k got around it as he did, taking it at the gallop," he went on.

And, as it happened, d.i.c.k had not exactly made it, for when Bud and Nort reached the dangerous turn, slightly after d.i.c.k had disappeared abound it, they saw no sight of their companion.

"Pull up!" cried Bud sharply. "There's something wrong!" Nort was beginning to think so himself, and he hauled his steed back with such good will and energy that the animal was almost on its haunches.

"Where in the world did he go?" cried Bud.

Nort asked the same question, for there lay the narrow trail before them, running along a ledge, with a shelving bank of shale and sand on one side and a towering face of rock on the other.

Snake Purdee raced at such speed around the turn, in spite of his own admonition to the boy ranchers, that the cowboy nearly ran down Bud and Nort.

"Where's d.i.c.k?" cried Snake, at once aware that the stout lad was not in sight.

"He's vamoosed--somewhere," said Bud. "Maybe he met-up with that Greaser and----"

At that moment, however, there came a cry, unmistakably of distress, seemingly from some distance ahead and down below the high and narrow trail on which the party had come to a halt.

"There's d.i.c.k now!" cried Nort, recognizing his brother's voice.

"Where in the world is he?" asked Bud, looking about.

In answer Snake pointed down the sloping bank of shale and sand, and there, at the bottom, was d.i.c.k, half buried in the soft material, and his horse, with twisted saddle, was standing near by, looking rather the worse for wear. And if the countenance of the animal had been visible it would doubtless have shown pained surprise.

"What's' the matter? What you doing down there?" called Nort to his brother, as d.i.c.k proceeded to extricate himself from the sand and shale that covered him almost to his neck.

"You don't s'pose I'm down here for fun, do you?" floated up the somewhat sarcastic answer. "I came around that turn too fast and the horse just sat down at the edge and slid here. It's lucky I'm not killed!"

"It sure is!" agreed Slim. "You want to take a strange trail easy, boy. Are you hurt--or your horse?"

d.i.c.k was about two hundred feet below them at the foot of the slope. He got up and limped over to his animal.

"Guess he's all right," was the reply.

"How about you?" asked Bud, for d.i.c.k had followed the real westerner's habit of looking first to his steed.

"Oh, I'm scratched up a bit, and lame," was the rueful reply, "but I guess nothing is busted unless it's one of my girths."