would have to share with the ranch men the glory of the pursuit and
possible capture of the bandits. It may have been rash of the boys, but
after their former adventures they felt capable of taking care of three
bandits by themselves--especially if they came on them unawares, which
they intended to do. Had Bill been there, it isn't likely that he would
have approved of their act, but with him away the boys could find
plenty of reasons for doing what they wanted to do.

Slim, the cook, had taken no interest in the affair. He was wrapped up
in attending to his misery, and the boys left him in a bunk, soaked with
liniment--which by rights was intended for a horse--and trying to sleep
and forget his troubles.

As the horses galloped over the rolling plains into the darkness of the
south, the boys were thrilled by a glow of excitement. Each had his
rifle hanging in a gun-boat from his saddle. The mystery of the night;
the fresh, keen stirring of the September air; the spirit of adventure;
the easy, swinging motion of the horses--all these made the night's
hours worth living for.

For a while, by the moon's light, Injun had easily been able to follow
the tracks of the horses of the three men, and as they continued toward
the south, Whitey felt sure that he had guessed correctly, so the horses
were urged to a swifter pace. Little urging was necessary, however, as
Whitey's "Monty" pony and Injun's pinto were fresh and seemed as eager
for the chase as their masters.

Whitey's plan for thwarting the bandits was simple. Before reaching the
Junction, the boys were to branch off toward the east and intercept the
train. They could stand on the track and swing a lantern, which Injun