"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 they could not calculate they saw Tom Dillon and the rascal he was after, and also the flying horses. They were all bounding along a rocky trail, the would-be horse thief well in advance. Suddenly they saw this individual make a turn and disappear around some rocks. The free horses kept on, with the old miner after them.
"That rascal has gotten away!" announced Dave. "He has given Mr. Dillon the slip."
"Dave, do you think Mr. Dillon will catch our horses?"
"Yes—sooner or later. They are bound to stop running, to feed or to drink, and then he'll
