Presently he saw
the rangers and halted to wave his arms and point. Then he vanished
as if the lava had opened beneath him.
"Lemme that glass," suddenly said Jim Lash. "I'm seein' red, I tell
you....Well, pore as my eyes are they had it right. Rojas an' his
outfit have left the trail."
"Jim, you ain't meanin' they've taken to that awful slope?" queried Ladd.
"I sure do. There they are--still comin', but goin' down, too."
"Mebbe Rojas is crazy, but it begins to look like he--"
"Laddy, I'll be danged if the Greaser bunch hasn't vamoosed. Gone
out of sight! Right there not a half mile away, the whole
caboodle--gone!"
"Shore they're behind a crust or have gone down into a rut,"
suggested Ladd. "They'll show again in a minute. Look sharp,
boys, for I'm figgerin' Rojas 'll spread his men."
Minutes passed, but nothing moved upon the slope. Each man crawled
up to a vantage point along the crest of rotting lava. The watchers
were careful to peer through little notches or from behind a spur,
and the constricted nature of their hiding-place kept them close
together. Ladd's muttering grew into a growl, then lapsed into the
silence that marked his companions. From time to time the rangers
looked inquiringly at Gale. The field glass, however, like the
naked sight, could not catch the slightest moving object out there
upon the lava. A long hour of slow, mounting suspense wore on.
"Shore it's all goin' to be as queer as the Yaqui," said Ladd.
Pages:
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269