could now see much further than formerly, and his view took in a portion of the trail passed several hours before, as it wound, serpent-like, between the foothills.
"Hullo!" he cried, as he caught sight of something moving on the trail. "Three people on horseback. Can they be the desperadoes Joe met?"
He watched the riders with interest, and at last felt certain they were three men fully armed and wearing slouch hats and light-colored coats. This description tallied with that given by his cousin, and he hastened down to acquaint old Benson with the news.
"Must be the gang," said the scout. "Are they moving this way?"
"Yes."
"Then we had better move on."
Joe was awakened, and leaped to his feet, looking rather bewildered.
"I—I thought I'd take a little nap," he stammered. "I suppose I've slept a good while, haven't I?"
"About an hour and a half," answered his cousin. "Here's your dinner," and he passed it over. "We've got to move on. Those rascals are behind us."
"Behind us!"
