one of 'em has a horse of some sort. Pretty good travelers, too, I take it, since our animals were fresh and we haven't been able to come up to 'em yet, though we've kept up a pretty fair gait. But we'll get 'em yet."
"If only it isn't too late," spoke Blake, whose one fear was that the valuable picture films would be spoiled. "Let's hurry on."
"Another little rest will do the horses good," said the cowboy guide. "Then we can push on so much the faster. Our horses are our best friends, and we've got to treat 'em right if we want the best service out of them. Another half-hour and we'll push on."
And, though Blake fretted and fumed at the delay, he knew it would not be best to insist on having his way. Soon, however, they were in the saddle again and once more in pursuit.
"The trail is getting fresher," declared Hank, about four o'clock that afternoon. "Their horses are tiring, I guess, and ours seem to be holding out pretty well."
"Which means" began Joe.
"That we may get up to them before dark," went on the cowboy. "And then we'll see what happens."
"Will they run, do you think?" inquired Blake.
"They will as long as their horses hold out, for
