Stacy had kept unusually quiet, though his eyes had grown large when he heard the conversation of the men.  At least there was a peep-hole through which the lookout was keeping watch.  It occurred to Chunky that he could yell after the men left, and thus attract the attention of his own fellows.  Tad had a different idea in mind, though he had not yet fully formulated his plans along this line.

The outlaws having finished their lunch, some rolled up in their blankets and went to sleep undisturbed by the fact that a band of Rangers was encamped within a short quarter of a mile of them.

As for the boys who were in such a tight place, they hardly dared move for fear of frightening the horses and thus exciting the suspicions of the outlaws further down the underground passage.  When the boys did change their positions it was done as cautiously as they knew how.  One Pony near them evidently scented them, for it grew restless and kept snorting, but that was all.

The hours dragged on wearily.  The boys did not know whether it were night or day.  Finally the lookout came down to where Jones was pacing steadily back and forth.

“Well?”

“Something going on over there,” answered the lookout, jerking his head toward the opening.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know.  They’re running around out there with torches.”

“Where are they?”

“On the other side of the clearing.”

“Got their rifles with them?”

“No.”

“McKay there?”

“The whole crowd’s there.”

“They’ve missed us,” whispered Chunky.  “They’re looking for us.”

“Sh—–­h—–­h—–­h,” warned Tad softly.  Jones pondered for a moment, then he turned to the lookout sharply.

“Wake up the men,” he said.

“I reckon something is going to be did,” whispered the irrepressible Chunky.  Something was.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

The waking of the men was a matter of seconds merely.  A touch on the shoulder and the man touched was on his feet as if propelled by springs, hand instinctively going to the revolver dangling from his belt.

Tad, now keenly alive to what was going on, had partially thrown the blankets off, Chunky having done the same.

“Don’t stir.  I’ll tell you when it is time to move,” warned Tad.

“Men, I’ve changed my mind,” announced the leader.  “Are you ready for a fight?”

“Sure we are if it’s Rangers you want us to fight,” answered a voice.

“Yes, it’s the same old crowd, and a bunch of youngsters thrown in.  I don’t know what the trouble is, but they’re racing around out there with torches—–­”

“Mebby they’ve found the trail,” suggested one.

“No, I reckon some of the youngsters have strayed away and got lost.  All the better for us.  The Rangers won’t be looking for us.”