Butler exercised his lungs.  Chunky’s lips moved, but no sound came from them.  His pony, however, followed the others, nearly causing its stiffened rider to fall off.

Every few moments the captain would utter his owl-call, which would be answered by other similar calls pretty much all around the compass.  In this way the Rangers were able to locate each other’s positions, thus avoiding shooting each other.

The shots of the enemy were now scattering.

It was only occasionally that McKay was able to determine that one of the bandits had fired a gun.  How he could tell the difference between the rifles of friends and foe was a mystery to young Butler.  Ere long the Rangers had narrowed down their circle until they were able to see each other.  For the past twenty minutes, they had been stalking cautiously.  Now they paused, after having exchanged signals.  Deep growls were heard on all sides.

“What does it mean?” questioned Tad.

“It means those fellows have given us the slip again,” grunted the captain.  “They’ve managed to slip through our lines somehow.  Well, never mind, we’ll get them one of these times.  I thought we had them pocketed this time so there would be no escape.”

Tad had thought so, too.  He was convinced that there was more to this escape than even the Ranger captain realized.  The boy did not wish to make suggestions so he kept silent.  Yet he determined to make an investigation on his own hook on the following morning, provided they were anywhere in that vicinity.

There was nothing more that the Rangers could do.  Their prey had eluded them, disappearing as suddenly as if through a hole in the earth.  It was the first time that such a thing had occurred to Captain McKay and his failure bothered him, but he presented a smiling face when, after having withdrawn a mile or so, the men went into camp for the rest of the night, building up a campfire and putting out a heavy guard to prevent a surprise during the night.

“Don’t you think the rascals have a hiding place there where they evaded us so neatly?” asked Tad, upon getting the captain’s ear.

“There is no hiding place there.  I know the locality well,” was the terse reply.

“But surely they could not have got through your lines,” objected the boy.

“Yet they did.  That’s all there is to it.”

Not a man of the Rangers had been hit, nor was it believed that any of the enemy had been wounded.  Night shooting at skulking figures in a forest is uncertain work.  Tad realized a sense of thankfulness for this.  He was not anxious to see bloodshed, but now that the danger was over, Chunky grew very brave.  He told them all about it and how “We” had driven the bandits off.  The story grew and grew with the telling until Stacy was convinced that he had fought a very brave battle.