"But they may find the trampled ground where your horse has been tied."

"I hope they do."

"You hope they do!"

"Sure. They'll figure that we must sure have moved away. They'll never
guess we'd hide near at hand. At least that's what I hope."

"How about tracks?"

"Not at night. By daylight maybe."

"But then to-morrow morning they can----"

"To-morrow morning is a long way off."

"Look!" cried Brower.

The big gates of the ranch had been thrown open. The glare of a
light--probably a locomotive headlight--poured out. Mounted figures
galloped forth and swerved to right or left, spreading in a circle about
the enclosure. The horsemen reined to a trot and began methodically to
quarter the ground, weaving back and forth. Four detached themselves and
rode off at a swift gallop to the points of the compass. The mounted men
were working fast for fear, I suppose, that we may have possessed
horses. Another contingent, afoot and with lanterns, followed more
slowly, going over the ground for indications. I could not but admire
the skill and thoroughness of the plan.