CHAPTER VIII. 

THE STEALING OF THE HORSES. 

"Go slow, men," came softly from Gilroy. "You know what kind of a man Leeson is." 

"Reckon I do know," came in a growl from Fetter. "And I've got an account to settle with him, too." 

"I'm pretty certain the boy is here," went on the leader. "But we must make sure if the others are here too, or if they have ridden off to the fort. If they have gone to the fort----" 

"Hist!" came in warning from Potts. "You're talking too much. I've heard that this Leeson sleeps with his ears wide open." 

"He does," grumbled Fetter; and then the three desperadoes relapsed into silence. 

They were advancing upon the cabin from the rear, and each held a ready pistol in his hand, while his rifle was slung over his back. They had seen the boys and Benson head for the trapper's home while it was still light and they were on a high cliff; but darkness had closed in on the scene, and they had come up to the spot in ignorance of what had followed. 

Tiptoeing their way they reached the lean-to where the horses had been stabled, and with caution Gilroy went inside. By feeling the animals he soon learned that three had been in use but a few hours before, while the fourth was cool and comfortable. 

"Their horses are here," he announced. "And a fourth is here, too." 

"That's Leeson's," answered Fetter. "But I thought he had two or three." 
If they weren't, where would they have gone?
the fort