“He described the location of the secret haunt of the gang, so we couldn’t miss finding it when ready to pounce down on them. More than that he drew a sort of diagram, or chart, showing us how there was a back-door way of gettin’ in, case they barricaded the main entrance—so far as he knew not a single guy of all the pack knew about this same rear door except himself; and he’d only found it out by sheer accident, keeping quiet, since he even then had a sneaking notion he’d have to pull out on the sly, if ever it came to a show-down between himself and the Hawk.”
“That sounds like something well worth while,” Jack remarked, after Red had apparently reached the end of his little yarn; “always provided what he told you was the truth, and not a fairy story invented to hoodwink you until he got out of touch, and could make his getaway.”
“I believe it was backed by solid truth,” Red stoutly affirmed; “and the colonel was of the same opinion. We were only waiting until several of the boys returned to the station after having their vacations, when we figured on pulling the roost, and closing out the whole bunch. Then you hit our place, and he made up his mind to let you have your day, backing you up when the posse arrived after their wild goose chase, sent on a false information that the gang planned to raid the little settlement at Frog’s Neck down the river fifty miles or so.”
Acting on Jack’s request, Red explained (by means of the rude chart made by the so-called Gene Hotchkiss) just where the retreat was located; and also what course they would have to pursue if necessity compelled them to attempt to break in through the back door.
“If that stacks up against us,” Jack finally decided, “we can go over this thing again and get our bearings—it may not be necessary if we have a decent share of luck. And now, boys, let’s move along, and start something.”
“When we get to a certain point,” further advised the Mounty guide, “it’s going to be necessary for us to leave the trail, hide our hosses, and take to the rocks.”
“You reckon then they’ll have a lookout posted to command the approach, and get wind of any threatening danger?” Jack asked.
“That Hotchkiss guy told us they never left anything to chance,” Red explained; “he said that day and night a vidette is kept posted on a lookout point, where, unseen himself he can discover if even a fox comes along the only approach to the cave. He even said they had dynamite planted, with a wire running up to the den, so the whole works could be knocked into flinders if so be the Mounties came along. We’ve got to find that wire, and disconnect it first thing we do.”
“Je-ru-sa-lem crickets, I should say so!” Perk chattered; “I ain’t so set on doin’ my flyin’ in pieces that I’ll cotton to any dynamite cache.”
Then, as they were once more compelled to go single file on account of the rocks narrowing the trail, the consultation came to an end, and they continued to move ahead in utter silence save when a hoof chanced to strike the solid rock and made a subdued sound. Each rider, however, tried to keep this from happening whenever possible, by skillful guidance with the bridle.