No words were spoken, for none were necessary.

All knew that they would not return until they had found the man for whom they were looking, even if the chase led to Canada.

They did not ask Buck for any of the particulars, for the foreman was not in the humor to talk, and all, save Hopalong, whose curiosity was always on edge, recognized only two facts and cared for nothing else: Johnny had been ambushed and they were going to get the one who was responsible.
They did not even conjecture as to who it might be, because the trail would lead them to the man himself, and it mattered nothing who or what he was--there was only one course to take with an assassin.

So they said nothing, but rode on with squared jaws and set lips, the seven ponies breast to breast in a close arc.
Soon they came to an arroyo which they took at a leap.

As they approached it they saw signs in the dust which told them that a body had lain there huddled up; and there were brown spots on the baked alkali.
The trail they followed was now single, Buck having ridden along the bank of the arroyo when hunting for Johnny, for whom he had orders.