“Sargints,” said Private Tom Clary, “I belave we can do bist by oursilves.  Me afthernoon’s lave ixpires at tattoo, but if, as me shuparior officers, ye’ll allow me to be out of camp a bit longer, I think we can sarcumvint the thaves.”

“We’ll do our best to get you excused by the lieutenant,” said Frank.

“Thank you, sargint laddie.  You say the grass-boat is near by, Sargint Hinery?”

“Not far from here, Tom.  Just west of the middle of the race-course.”

“And the thaves are going to camp and cook their supper on the other side?”

“So they said.”

“Thin we’ll attimpt to interfare with their arrangemints.  I think the liftinint will commind an ‘absence without lave’ if we bring in the raskils and the ponies.”

The soldier and boys turned, and, bidding Vic keep close to them, hurried to the bar where Henry had left the gift of the Mojave belle.  As they were lifting the elastic raft into the water they heard the voices of men on the river, accompanied by the splashing of water, and knew that the horse-thieves were fording the stream.

The Colorado was shoal, having an average autumnal depth of four feet at La Paz.  Clary secured two poles from the river debris lodged on the bar, one for Frank and one for himself.  Henry sat on the box in the middle, holding his companions’ guns across his lap with one hand, and grasping Vic’s collar with the other.  The well-filled game-bags lay between his feet.

The balsa moved slowly towards the opposite shore and swiftly down-stream, the stalwart Irish soldier’s feet settling into the loosely bound stems as he poled.  Becoming alarmed when he found the water standing above his ankles, he called, in a subdued undertone: 

“Sargint Frank, I belave I shall go through the bottom of this l’aky craft before we git across.”

“Take Henry’s paddle, Tom; it lies on the right side of the box.  Lay it across the reeds and stand on it.”

“Ah, sure and that’s betther.  Kape yer ind a little more up-strame, sargint.  We’ll steer by the avening star.”

In a few minutes the balsa lodged against the shore in the still water of a little cove.  The boys and soldier were aware that they were landing some miles below their starting-point, for the current was strong and swift, while the horse-thieves had forded the river almost in a direct line.  They climbed the bank, and ordering Vic to keep close by them, began to move as fast as possible up the shore.

They had made their way for nearly an hour over a rough and miry river-bottom when the setter showed sudden excitement and began sniffing to the right and left.

“She must have struck their path from the river to their camping-place, Tom,” said Frank.  “Look sharp, Vicky, look sharp!”

“But she seems to be working up-stream,” said Henry.  “I should think they would have gone straight inland.”