The horses had been tethered at some distance from the camping-out spot,
behind some heavy brushwood, where the grass was extra thick and
nutritious. Dave hurried in that direction, with Phil at his heels.
When the two youths reached the spot, both stared around in perplexity.
"Why, Dave----" stammered the shipowner's son. "I thought----"
"We left the horses here!" cried Dave. "I'm sure of it."
"Then where are they now?"
"Maybe they broke loose and wandered away."
"Or else they have been stolen!"
"Stolen!"
"Yes,--it couldn't be otherwise. They wandered away or they have been
stolen."
"We'll take a look around."
Both boys hurried, first in one direction, and then another. They could
see hoof-prints in the grass, leading towards the rocks back of the
bushes, but that was all. The horses had been tethered to some saplings.
"The halters didn't break, that's certain," said Phil, soberly. "For if
they did, we'd find the broken ends."
"I can't understand it," returned Dave, and his face grew thoughtful.
"Hello!" came in Roger's voice. "Why don't you bring those horses? We
are all ready to go."
"Come here!" called back Dave. "Something is wrong!"
The senator's son answered the summons on a run, and the three girls
trailed behind him.
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