sneaked away from the ranch-house an' headed for the Cloudy country. I follered, an' sent 'em a slug for luck; nailed one, for shore, but I'll bet it warn't the perisher I was after.'
The effect of his news was electrical. Trenton's face grew purple, as he rose to his feet and stamped with rage. 'Blast them, they've diddled us an' got a start,' he cried. 'You any good at trailin', Lake?'
'I can read sign better'n most,' was the modest answer. 'We'll take you with us; you'll be well paid, an' have an opportunity of wipin' out your score against Green. Is every thin' ready, Bundy? Right, we set out as soon as we've eaten.'
In less than two hours they were on their way. Avoiding Rainbow, they cut across the wagon-road leading to the Circle Dot, forded the river, and rode in the direction of Dover's western boundary. Presently they came to the spot where Lake had ceased his spying. It was daylight now, and the marks of a group of horses were easy to find. Lake pointed exultantly to some burnt-out matches, and a smear of blood on the grass.
'Told you I got one,' he cried. His eyes swept the ground. 'On'y winged him, seemin'ly--they sent him back. Well, that's one less to deal with.'
Trenton asked a question. 'We'll catch 'em whenever you say,' was the confident reply.
'We don't want to,' the rancher warned. 'An' it is important that they shouldn't know we're followin' them.'
'I get you; tailin' 'em will be just too easy,' the fellow sneered. 'These cow-thumpers don't know nothin' 'bout hidin' tracks.'
There he was wrong, for one of the despised 'cowthumpers'--to which class he himself once belonged and disgraced--had the redskin's skill in detecting or concealing a trail. Sudden's childhood had been spent with an old Piute horse-dealer, who, in his sober hours, taught him the craft of his race. The puncher had never forgotten that early upbringing which, on more than one occasion, had stood him in good stead.
A mile or so later, the leader halted, and when Trenton wanted the reason, had to admit that the tracks had ceased on the edge of a small stream. Obviously the quarry had taken to the water.
'No call for that if they don't know we're follerin',' Lake grumbled.
'O' course they know,' Bundy said. 'You told 'em yoreself when you fired that fool shot.' He did not approve of the man's inclusion in the party.
'How the devil was I to guess what was afoot?' Lake threw back.
A search of the banks of the stream in both directions resulted in the trail being again picked up, but not until considerable time had been consumed. A recurrence of these delays atfrequent intervals soon showed that they were not accidental. and drew another caustic comment from the foreman.
'I'd say there's a cow-thumper ahead who's smarter at blindin' tracks than you are at findin' 'em,' he jeered. 'Is there anythin' yo're good at?'
The little man glared at him through reptilian, half-lidded eyes. 'Yeah, killin' vermin,' he said quietly.
Garstone had early attached himself to Miss Trenton, and if he admired the trim figure in its neat riding-suit, the skirt reaching only to the tops of her high boots with their dainty silver-spurred heels, and the soft grey hat above the ebon curls, she too could not but admit that he looked well on horseback. As usual, he was carefully dressed: his cord breeches, top boots, loose coat, and soft silk shirt and tie, lent him distinction among the roughly-garbed others of her escort. She was full of curiosity about the expedition, for her uncle had told her little.
'Why do we have to wait about like this?' she asked, while the trail was being found again. 'I understood it was to be just a pleasure trip.'
'Business and pleasure, especially the latter, for me,' Gar-stone smiled. 'The fact is, Miss Trenton--and I tell you this in confidence--we are on a treasure hunt.'
'Really?' she cried. 'But how exciting. 'What form does the treasure take?'
'We don't know--gold, money, or jewels, maybe all three. It is reputed to have been hidden somewhere in these hills by an outlaw named Red Rufe.'
'What became of him?'
Garstone shrugged. 'Who knows? Probably returned to his old haunts for more plunder and got wiped out.'
'And Uncle Zeb knows where the treasure is?'
He smiled into her sparkling eyes. 'No, it isn't so easy as that; he has certain indications, but it may take time.' His tone grew warmer. 'I hope it does.'
She reddened a little under his ardent gaze. 'But why is it necessary to search for tracks; they cannot be Red Rufe's.'
'No, others have got wind of our enterprise and stolen a march upon us; we want to know where they are bound for. You see, success means everything to your uncle. Cattlemen 1,1 have had a lean time for several years, and he is heavily in debt.'
'Poor Uncle Zeb,' she said. 'I always thought him wealthy.'
'Most people think so--he has his pride,' Garstone returned. 'I have a great regard for him, and after the fine fight he has put up against overwhelming odds, it will be too terrible if he should lose the Wagon-wheel.'
'Is it as bad as that?'
'Yes,' he replied gravely. 'And your uncle has ideas for the development of Rainbow; it will break him up if he is not able to carry them out. He doesn't talk of these things, but I am in his confidence.'
'Who are the others you spoke of?'
'Who but the Circle Dot? Dover would sell his soul to see your uncle ruined,' came the bitter reply.
She did not doubt it; Dan had shown his animosity plainly enough. 'We must find that treasure,' she said.
'We certainly will,' he assured her. 'I'm prepared to do anything rather than let Zeb go under.'
'I'm sure we all feel like that,' she agreed.
This being the admission he was waiting for, he dropped the subject, satisfied that he had done a good day's work for his employer, and a better one for himself. Which was as it should be, according to the ethics of Chesney Garstone.
Chapter XV
Sudden was the culprit. He it was who devised those vexatious and time-eating problems which were exercising the wits of the bearded man, and fraying the tempers of his companions. The Circle Dot puncher had little expectations of throwing the pursuers entirely off the trail, but the greater the distance between the parties, the more chance there was of doing so. So, whenever they encountered a rivulet, they splashed along it, either up or down, before crossing; patches of hard ground, which would record no hoof-prints, were traversed diagonally at the widest points, and once the tracks led straight to the edge of a morass and ended, with no turn to right or left.
This apparent miracle was accomplished by patience and the alternate use of blankets, of which each man carried a couple; the first was spread--from the saddle--at right angles from the trail, and the horse led on to it, then the second, and before the animal moved from that, the first again. By this means, Sudden, who took the lead, covered a considerable space without leaving a mark, and the others followed his actions exactly. When they had all reached him, he returned on foot, with a pair of blankets, and brought the pack-horse. The operation took time, but would cost those who followed much more.
'That was a smart ruse, Jim,' Malachi complimented, as they went on their way. 'Do you think it will baffle them?'
'It's an old Injun caper,' the puncher replied. 'If Trenton has a real tracker with him, he'll guess it, but they've still to find our trail again.'
Soon afterwards they reached the verdure-clad foothills and, plunging into the welcome shade, began a gradual rise. Hunch, jogging steadily along at Sudden's elbow, spoke never a word, but his usually lack-lustre eyes were a little brighter as they neared his beloved forests. Through an occasional break in the trees they caught a glimpse of the distant snow-capped peak of Old Cloudy, thrusting up into the azure sky.
As Dover had warned the doctor, they were breaking their own trail, winding in and out through thick brush, along stony ravines, climbing up-flung ridges of rock, yet making for a definite point. Once or twice, Sudden spoke to the old man, but getting only a gesture for answer, made no further attempt; his Indian training had taught him the
