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Page 25
It was eleven o'clock that forenoon when Hi Lang strode into camp,
his rifle slung under one arm, a heavy revolver on either hip.
The greeting of the girls brought a smile to the face of the
guide. They were relieved and glad to see him, and he saw it. He
also was glad to be with them once more, for, in the brief time he
had known them, he had grown to feel a genuine affection for these
bright-eyed, plucky young women who preferred to spend their
vacation on his beloved desert rather than dance away the weeks of
their vacation at some fashionable summer resort.
"Mr. Lang, where have you been?" cried Emma Dean.
"Out looking for game," he answered briefly, laying aside his
rifle.
"Did you find it?" asked Grace smilingly.
"No. Ping, bring me some chow. How you feeling this morning, Mrs.
Gray?" he asked after he had begun eating his breakfast.
"Fit and fine, sir. You found a trail, I take it," she added in a
lower voice.
"Yes." Hi gave her a quick look of appreciation for her keenness.
"You hit your man all right. I found blood where he was standing
when you two were shooting at each other. I also found the trail,
further on, the trail of the same man and another. There were two
of them."
"I wonder which, one it was that put a hole through my perfectly
new hat," grumbled Hippy.
"At least one of them has left the range," resumed the guide. "I
found the trail of a pony and footprints of one man on the other
side of the range, but what became of the other fellow, I don't
know. I'm going out again after breakfast and look further. Do you
feel like making a start to-day?"
"Yes. I think we should be moving," replied Grace.
"We'll leave after chow this evening. Better get what rest you can
to-day. Lieutenant, I wish you would stick around and see that the
camp is not bothered."
"If you need him, Mr. Lang, we can protect ourselves. Do not worry
about us," interjected Grace.
"Don't need him. Ping, put some grub in my pack, then I'm off."
After the guide's departure time dragged rather heavily for the
girls. Later in the day Grace took her pony out for a gallop and
felt better for the change. At four o'clock Mr. Lang came in, and,
though he had been up all night and had been hiking in the
mountains all day long since early morning, he appeared fresh and
alert.
"Pack up and get out!" he ordered, nodding to Ping Wing. "Serve
the grub on our mess kits first. Follow the foothills and we will
catch up with you. I give it up, folks. This mystery has got to
solve itself. It's too much for me."
"Don't worry, Mr. Lang. If our friend the mystery man keeps at us
long enough we shall catch him. I wish we knew why he is bothering
us so," said Grace. "I should prefer to stay here until we solve
the mystery, but we must be on our way, and perhaps he may follow
us."
"That sounds interesting," observed Miss Briggs.
Ping and his lazy burros started about an hour before the rest of
the party got under way, and when they did get under way they
jogged along slowly through the foothills of the range, where the
going was fairly easy. The guide said they should come up with
Ping before dark, and that they would, after having mess, then
continue on at a slower pace until they reached a suitable camping
place for the night.
Dusk was upon them when they finally overtook the Chinaman, who
was sitting on the rump of a burro chattering to his mount to get
him to go faster, but without much success. The ponies of the
party then took the lead, which, Hi Lang said, would induce the
burros to move faster in an effort to keep up, but it was a much
slower pace than the Overland Riders were in the habit of
traveling, that they now dropped into.
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