“Then’s when I let go with old Betsy here. And whew! can’t she kick some? She knocked me cold, and I just woke up.” Then he turned to peer into Chet’s face, demanding: “Say, boy! what’s the matter with you?” Chet was absolutely pallid. He lips parted, but were so dry that for a moment he could not speak. Finally he blurted out: “They—they’ve got ’em!” “Got what?” gasped Dig. “Who’s got ’em?” “The deeds.” “Are you crazy, Chet? Nobody’s got those deeds. They’re in your pocket—” “No!” cried Chet wildly. “They’re gone!” “Nonsense!” Chet had drawn open his shirt and turned it so that Dig could easily feel the empty pocket inside. He could only mutter: “Whew! what bad luck! what _bad_ luck! Don’t you think mebbe you’ve lost ’em, Chet? Dropped ’em out, maybe?” “I am afraid not,” returned his chum, getting control of himself again. “If you saw one of those men coming from the direction of our camp—” “Well, he had something besides papers in his hands,” grunted Dig. “Come on! let’s go back and see just how bad things are.” “No matter what other damage they did,” Chet declared, “the loss of the deeds father entrusted to my care is the only really serious loss. I feel dreadfully, Dig. He trusted us, and I let ’em get away from me. And after having had one warning, too! “Yes! two warnings. Amoshee—John Peep—told me they were on the trail after us.” “Who were after us? What are you talking about?” demanded the puzzled Digby. Chet told him as they hastened around the pool to the camp and the horses. “Well! of all the stingy guys!” exclaimed Dig. “By all the hoptoads that were chased out of Ireland! you’re the meanest fellow, to keep this all to yourself. Hadn’t the first idea that we were being trailed by two villains. Cricky!” “You talk as if it were fun,” said Chet in disgust. “What shall I say to father? He’ll blame me—but that doesn’t so much matter. I tell you, Dig, I’ve got to get those deeds back. This fellow is after the old Crayton claim and he’ll get the deeds changed, somehow, and get Mr. Morrisy to sign them, and then father will lose what he’s already invested in the claim. I tell you, I must get them back!” he repeated, almost in tears. “Huh!” grunted Digby, “you’ve got it wrong.” “Have what wrong?” asked Chet, surprised. “You say you have to get the papers back. Wrong. We have to get ’em back. I’m with you, Chet, no matter how big the job is.” “Oh, thank you, Dig! I know you’ll stand by me,” Chet declared. “We’ll have to start as soon as possible after these thieves. We must pick up their trail and chase them.” The boys reached the camp at this moment. There were a few live coals in the bed of the fire, and Dig stirred them with his foot and then threw on some light fuel. Soon the blaze sprang up and the light flickered over the spot.