another party had gone off to bring in Joe and Darry.
"This is a nice state of affairs," he thought. "These rascals mean mischief. I wish I could get the drop on them. I'd soon teach them a thing or two."
He watched the men as a cat watches mice, and, when the party of three moved on, stole after them like an Indian on the warpath.
The desperadoes skirted the brushwood, but did not go out on the grassy slope of the valley, fearing that the old scout might be near by in hiding and see them.
They were a shiftless lot, and soon came to another halt, under some small trees. Here they threw themselves on the ground, and while two of them smoked their pipes the third indulged in a nap.
Not a great distance off was a spring of pure cold water, and presently one of the men got up and walked over to this to get a drink.
"My chance for number one!" muttered old Benson, and crawled after the desperado. As the man turned the corner of a number of rocks, he came up behind, clapped his hands over the fellow's mouth, and bore him to the earth.
