At last he was about to get up and go home when he saw a figure dodging from shadow to shadow and making up the hill in the general direction of his position.
Glancing about him, Bob saw no way to get away from the tower without being seen by the furtive newcomer. The moon was high and the ground at the tower’s foot was clear of any cover. Something told him he wanted to know what the approaching figure was up to and he would spoil any chance of that if he disclosed his whereabouts. Happening to glance up he saw that one side of the tower was in shadow. He crawled around to it. Then he had an idea.
“Crazy lummox, why didn’t I think of this before,” he muttered to himself as he began to climb up the tower. It was built of steel and an iron ladder had been provided to make the oiling of the pulley wheel at the top a simple task.
Hardly had he reached a height he felt was safe, when the figure glided swiftly across the clearing and sat down almost in the spot he had just quitted.
Bob was surprised when he saw the man roll a cigarette and coolly light it. This display of unconcern as to whether or not he was observed, did not fit in with the dodging tactics he had employed when coming up the hill. Then the explanation came in a flash. Surely the spot had been chosen on account of the clear space around it and the impossibility of anyone’s coming upon it unobserved. The man had dodged on his way up because he did not want to be recognized by a prowling night watchman. Once he had arrived, no one could get near enough to be dangerous.
In the flare of the match Bob had recognized the newcomer. It was a Mexican, Miguel Philipe, who was an underforeman at the trap rock quarry.
But before Bob’s mind had accepted the fact that a Greaser was sitting up here in the moonlight, instead of gambling or watching a cock fight down in the Townsite, a crackling in the underbrush to the right caught his attention. A moment later a figure stepped out into the clearing. To his dismay, he recognized the approaching man.
Jerry King!
Jerry King, who was supposed to be up country on a map-making expedition, was back and meeting a Mexican in a place that must have been agreed upon before.
All the suspicions of Jerry’s attitude that he had fought down, came back in a rush and were not lessened when he saw by the signs of greeting displayed by Miguel, that Jerry was the person he expected to see.