didn’t quite take the middle of the road while passing in.”
“I never thought of that,” Bob said, in a low tone. “That’s another page made clear. Oh! but all this is mighty interesting to me, I tell you, Frank. I only wish I could write shorthand, and I’d have it all down in black and white.”
“Huh! better have it written in your memory, where it can never be rubbed out,” remarked Frank, dismounting, as all the others were doing.
CHAPTER VII
THE SECRET VALLEY
“What’s the programme, Frank?” asked the Kentucky boy, a short time later, after they had taken the horses into a little bay, which the Colonel called a cul-de-sac, where they could be easily kept by piling up some of the big rocks at the mouth; though one cowboy must be left to guard them.
“As I understand it,” replied Frank, “it’s first a bite to eat, and then down the canyon for ours. When we come to that hole in the wall, we’ll slip through, and find out where we bring up.”
“But Frank, do you really believe all that herd passed through that little opening? Why, they’d fill any sort of cave; and besides, how under the sun would they get anything to eat?”
“Well, remember that I’m only guessing,” returned his chum; “but here’s the way I figure it out. That cleft in the wall runs back some little way, and perhaps keeps getting bigger all the while. Presently it turns into a regular trail
over the rocks, that the cattle will follow single file. And mark me, Bob, sooner or later they’ll turn up in a valley among the mountains here, that no cowboy has ever set eyes on—that is, unless he’s in with Mendoza.”
“Sounds like a fairy story, Frank,” objected Bob, who was very practical.