"Look!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. DeVere, who had followed the two into the tent. "That's how your reel was taken!" and he pointed to a slit in the wall of the tent, close to where the black box had stood. So clean was the cut, having evidently been made with a very sharp instrument, that only when the wind swayed the canvas was it noticeable. "By Jove! You're right!" cried Mr. Pertell. "That's how they got it, Russ. Someone sneaked up outside the tent, slit it open, reached in and lifted out the reel. It was done when we were asleep and----" "That's what made the dogs bark!" exclaimed Russ. "Now the question is: Who was it?" He looked at Mr. Pertell as he spoke, and at once a light of understanding came into the eyes of the manager. "You mean----?" the latter began. "Those fellows from the International!" finished Russ, quickly. "They must be still on our trail." "What's the trouble?" asked Baldy Johnson, from outside the tent. "Has anything happened?" "Oh, don't say there's more trouble," chimed in Ruth, as she came down out of the wagon where she and Alice slept. "What has happened now?" "Nothing much, except that we've been robbed," spoke Russ, ruefully. "Our big reel is gone." To the cowboys and others of the company who crowded up he showed the slit in the tent wall, through which the theft had been perpetrated. "Hum! I guess those fellows were smarter than we were," replied Baldy. "We scurried around in the night, but they gave us the slip." "And we didn't see a sign of 'em, neither!" added Buster Jones. "Say, fellows, if this ever gets back to Rocky Ranch," went on Necktie Harry, as he adjusted a flaming red scarf, "we'll never hear the last of it. To think we heard a racket, got up, and let something be taken right from under our noses and didn't see it done--Good-night! as the poet says." "Boys, we've got to make good!" declared Bow Backus. "We've got to take the trail after these scamps, and get back them pictures. It's up to us!" "Whoop-ee! That's what it is!" shouted Necktie Harry, firing his gun. "Oh, isn't this fine!" cried Alice, as she joined Ruth. "There will be a real chase and----" "Oh, how can you like such things?" asked Ruth. "It may be something terrible!" "Pooh! I don't see how it can be. If they have something that belongs to us we have a right to get it back," and Alice shook back the hair that was falling over her shoulders, for she was to take part in several pictures that day as a "cowgirl," and was dressed in a picturesque, if not exactly correct, costume, with short skirt, leggins and all. "Oh, I hope there won't be any--bloodshed!" faltered Miss Pennington. "They'll probably only use their lassoes," replied Alice, with a smile. "Oh dear! I hope breakfast will soon be ready. I'm as hungry as a----" "Alice!" warned Ruth, with a gentle look. She was still trying to correct her sister's habit of slang.