“There are some trees over yonder, you may notice, Perk; so after we’ve caught our second wind we’ll take chances, and cut across to where they lie, perhaps when morning comes tripping along, we may climb up the face of the mountain and get a look-in at the printing establishment that’s set itself up in opposition to the U. S. Treasury Department, and the Federal Bank. Come on then, a little further where we can drop down, and rest our weary feet.”
Shortly afterwards the pair had crept in among the sheltering trees, where Jack called a rest, although under the impression that they should get along further before break of day.
He talked matters over with his partner, speaking almost in whispers, since in this enemy country no one could take anything for granted and for all they knew hostile ears might chance to be close by, ready to listen in.
It was Perk himself who proposed to move along while the going was good.
“Seems like we might be a heap better off, old hoss, if on’y we located up thar on the side o’ the mountain, where we could see without our bein’ watched. I’m okay now, an’ ready for b’ar.”
That was the spirit Jack liked in his mate—a readiness to take hold and reach a decision. They moved along toward the base of the forbidding height, keeping a watchful eye on the eastern sky lest dawn come and surprise them in the open, where it would not be easy to find a hiding place during the entire day.
Fortune favored them, for they managed to get under cover before the first gray streaks appeared in the east. It was bound to be a strenuous task climbing that formidable mountain side but Jack had prepared for even this part of the adventure.
From various sources he had learned how there were three separate means for subduing that grim pyramid of rocks and trees and tangled growth—in order to lessen the chances of discovery, with unpleasant consequences, Jack had decided to try and negotiate the most difficult of these mountain trails in the belief that it would offer a safer passage since evidently none of the seething revolutionists, or their allies, the bad men from across the border, would be likely to follow that canyon trail when others less difficult could be utilized.
Down there hidden by the bushes and spurs of outlying rock they employed their time in munching what must serve as their breakfast. Then quenching their thirst at a convenient pool they proceeded to climb the face of the steep elevation, making for the quaint hollow in the crater of a long dead volcano and which had once been a Yaqui fort.