"Well, they might have talked it over just as we did, and chosen to leave the horses so they could look around on foot," Frank replied.
"But you suspect they might have another reason, too?" Bob insisted.
"That's a fact," replied his chum, seriously. "For all we know they may have run across some sign of the rustlers, and thought it best to get out of the beaten rut here before they got caught."
"Then you don't believe that little Lopez had anything to do with it, Frank?"
"What, that Mex boy? Oh! he's out of the business long ago," replied the other.
"In what way? Didn't he come along this trail ahead of us?" asked Bob.
"Sure thing," Frank went on. "But you see I've missed the marks of that burro's little hoofs for nearly twenty minutes. I made up my mind Lopez had some slick way of climbing out of the barranca a ways back, without leaving much of any trail. I told you he was a sly one, and I say the same now, no matter whether he's a brother to the girl you defended against Peg, or the girl herself."
"All right, Frank. Get us out of this as soon as you can," Bob remarked, looking ahead, as though he did not much fancy the appearance of things there.
Ten minutes later Frank drew rein sharply.
"What's doing?" asked Bob, nervously, as he half raised his rifle, which he had insisted on holding in his hand all the time since that meeting with Peg. "Think you see signs of trouble from Peg and his bunch; or is it something else?"