opped to a walk and then turned back. And as Tom Dillon
continued to whistle, the intelligent steed came closer and closer,
until the old miner was able to grasp it by the halter.

But all this had taken valuable time, and meanwhile the other horses
continued to gallop on, led by the man in front, who was now riding like
the wind. Who he was they could not make out, but they strongly
suspected Sol Blugg or one of his cronies.

"I'd shoot if them hosses wasn't in the way!" cried Tom Dillon,
wrathfully.

"Can't you go after them?" asked Dave and Roger, in a breath.

"I can and I will!" answered the old miner. "Stay right here till I get
back!" And with those words he saddled his horse with all speed, and in
less than a minute later was flying down the back trail after the stolen
steeds and the rascal who was making off with them.

CHAPTER XIX

THE NEWSPAPER CLEW

"Do you think he'll catch that fellow?"

It was Phil who asked the question, as he and Dave and Roger watched the
old miner disappear around a bend of the back trail.

"I don't know about that," returned Dave. "But if he gets the horses
back it will be something."

"I should say yes!" cried the senator's son. "Why, we won't be able to
go on unless we get them back!" he added, his face showing his worry.

"Listen!" exclaimed Roger a minute later. "Somebody is shooting!"

It was true--a shot had sounded out on the morning air. Soon it was
followed by another, at a greater distance--showing that pursued and
pursuer were drawing farther from the boys.

The boys walked slowly back to the campfire and commenced to stir it up,
and then they finished their morning toilet. Dave heaved a deep sigh.

"I must say I don't feel much like eating," he observed.

"Oh, we might as well fix breakfast," came from Phil. "It will help to
pass the time. It won't do any good to just sit around."

Fortunately their provisions were at hand, so it was an easy matter to
prepare the morning meal. Before eating, however, Roger and Dave climbed
the tall rock behind the camp and looked for some sign of Tom Dillon and
the man he was pursuing.

"I can't see a thing," announced Roger, after a long look through the
field-glasses. "Here, you try," and he handed the glasses to our hero.

For several minutes Dave surveyed the distant landscape in vain. Then he
uttered a cry.

"I see them, Roger! There they go!" And he pointed excitedly with his
finger.

At a distance t