Arthur M. Winfield

“ As soon as the shadows became long and deep Jack Wumble arose.
"Now I reckon we can begin to ride on the back trail," he said, with a shrewd smile on his rugged face.
It was an easy matter to saddle the horse again. The rest had made the animals as fresh as ever and this was a good thing, as the old miner calculated to ride a long distance between sunset and sunrise.
"I suppose our enemies are watching every move we make," said Tom. "But I must say I can't catch a single glance of them."
"I thought I saw a speck or two of something over the hill to the south," said Dick. ”

“ They rode on slowly, the old miner not wishing to reach the fork in the trail until it was quite dark. Fortunately it was clouding up, so that not even the stars would be left to betray them.
"We are coming to the fork," said Wumble, about eight o'clock. "Keep your eyes peeled, lads, and if you see anything out of the ordinary, let me know at once."
There was a tiny stream to cross, and then the way led around a series of sharp rocks.
"Keep to the grass as much as possible," cautioned the old miner in a voice that was a mere whisper. "And now follow me as fast as you can!" ”

“ Thus talking the entire party walked back to their camp and sat down to discuss the situation in detail.
"Perhaps we had better not advance until dark," said Dick. "If we advance now we will simply be making targets of ourselves," and he shivered in spite of himself.
"We won't advance at all," put in Jack Wumble briefly. "We would be wuss nor fools if we did—with them human wildcats a—watchin' of us," and he began to puff vigorously at his short stump of a briarroot pipe.
"But you said——" began Tom, when the old miner waved him to silence. ”