“I have an idea they’ll try to get away from us,” Chet said. “But we’ll fool them. Hero and Poke can travel twice as much trail in a day as those sorry ponies they have.” “Right!” agreed Dig. The boys had only enough water in their canteens for breakfast—none for the horses, or for their own ablutions. “We’ll wait till we reach the first water-hole,” Chet advised. “Cinch on the saddles, Dig.” They had time to eat a good breakfast, however. But Dig grumbled over one thing. “I’d give a dollar for a hunk of bread!” he declared. “We’ll appreciate white-flour bread all the more when we get it again,” his chum told him. Suddenly the boys saw the two men clamber into their saddles. They started back for the edge of the timber. Chet and Dig were ready and quickly fastened their blanket-rolls upon their saddles. They led their mounts to the open plain. There they saw Steve and Tony cantering away in an easterly direction, taking the back track. “They’re going back to that camp of theirs where Steve says he lost the deeds, Dig,” Chet declared eagerly. “Come on!” “I’m with you,” agreed his chum and spurred the black horse after the bay. They had not gone a mile when the men looked back and saw that they were pursued. The boys did not draw near to them but they showed a dogged intention of keeping on their trail. “That Steve-man is madder’n a hatter,” chuckled Dig. “He don’t like our company a little bit.” The men drew in their horses and glared back at the trail boys. The latter stopped their mounts as well and sat calmly, waiting. The men were in eager and angry conference. It was plain that they did not wholly agree as to their future course. Finally Steve jerked his pony around and cantered away toward the southwest. Tony followed more slowly, and evidently against his will. The boys waited until they were some distance off, and then turned their own horses in the same direction. “If I knew where they had camped yesterday noon—this side of the river, of course—I’d say, let’s go there and search the camping place,” said Chet thoughtfully. “But it would take too long to find the place, and meanwhile the scoundrels might be riding hard for Grub Stake and fooling us. For there’s always the chance that that fellow Steve has the deeds, after all.” “They weren’t on him, that’s sure,” remarked Digby. “He might even have had them hidden in that hollow log. We didn’t think to search it,” Chet rejoined. “No! our best course is to keep watch of them.” “Come on, then,” said his chum, tightening Poke’s rein. “They’re getting a good way in the lead.” There was not much chance of the rascals getting away from them, however. Not for the first few hours, at least. The strip of timber they soon rode through was not very wide, and out upon the other side the open plain faced them again.