"Mysteries are crowding each other," said Frank.
Bushnell was silent, but he was watching and listening.
Like a band of black phantoms, the silent horsemen rode along the ravine and disappeared. Frank could hear the professor's teeth chattering as if the man had a chill.
"This bub-bub-beats my tut-tut-tut-time!" confessed Scotch. "I rather think we'd better turn back and let the Silver Palace alone."
"Rot!" growled Bushnell. "Them varmints wuz Pacheco's gang, an' they hed the feet of their critters muffled, thet's all. Don't git leery fer thet. All ther same, ef Jack Burk or his spook hedn't warned us, them onery skunks w'u'd hed us in a consarned bad trap."
This was the truth, as they all knew, and they were decidedly thankful to the mysterious individual who had warned them.
Bushnell now resorted to the trick of "covering the trail," in order to do which it was necessary to muffle the feet of their horses and lead them over the rocky ground, where their bandaged hoofs could make no mark. At length he came to a stream, and he led the way into the water, following the course of the stream, and having the others trail along in single file directly behind him.
When they halted again Bushnell assured them that there was little danger that the bandits would be able to follow them closely, and they rested without molestation till morning.
At daybreak the Westerner was astir, being alive with eagerness and impatience, as he repeatedly declared they would behold the wonderful Silver Palace before another sunset.
Eating a hasty breakfast, they pushed forward, with the Westerner in the lead.