“I wonder how the old chap ever made it?” he murmured, as he went down the other side of the barrier.
Frank chuckled, for it happened that just then his thoughts were roving in exactly the same quarter that the words spoken by his chum would indicate held Bob’s attention.
“Now, you’re thinking of Old Baldy, eh Bob?” he asked, softly.
“Just what I was,” replied the other.
“And wondering how he ever got over all those rocks when he escaped?” Frank went on.
“He must have had wings to do it, that’s what, Frank.”
“Oh! shucks!” Frank remarked. “I don’t believe for a second the old rascal ever went up over this barricade. Perhaps it didn’t happen to be here at the time he flew the coop. Then, again, it might be the sharp old chap found some other way of leaving the hidden valley, that even the rustlers know nothing about.”
“I wouldn’t wonder, Frank,” said the other; “for he’s as wise as they make ’em, I reckon.”
“No more at present, Bob,” cautioned Frank.
Having climbed over the barrier designed to block the neck of the valley which had so long served Mendoza as a hiding place for his stolen stock, the two lads followed Colonel Haywood and the cow punchers.