"Well, good luck, Billy. Better move up closer to th' trail if you can find any cover. You don't want to miss none. So long," and Billy was alone with his sleeping companion.
When the foreman returned to the camp he was challenged, and stopped, surprised. "It's Peters," he called.
"Oh, all right. Time to go yet?" asked Cross, emerging from the darkness.
"Purty near; but I thought I told you to go to sleep?"
"I know, but I ain't sleepy, not a bit. So I reckoned I'd keep watch over th' rest of th' gang."
"Well, since yo're wide awake, you help me knot these ropes an' let th' others have a few minutes more," Buck responded, picking up Skinny's fifty-foot lariat and placing it to one side. He picked up the three shorter ropes and threw one to his companion. "Put a knot every foot an' a half—make 'em tight an' big."
In a few minutes the work was finished and Buck awakened the sleeping men, who groped their way to the little stream close by and washed the sleep out of their tired eyes, grabbing a bit of food on their return to the fire.
"Now, fellers," said the foreman, "leave yore rifles here—it's Colts this trip, except in Red's case. Got plenty of cartridges? Everybody had a drink an' some grub? All right; single file after me an' don't make no noise."
When the moon came up an hour later Red Connors, lying full length on the apex of the pinnacle which Johnny had tried and found wanting, watched an indistinct blurr of men in the shadow of the mesa wall. He saw one of them step out into the moonlight, lean back and then straighten up suddenly, his arm going above his head. The silence was so intense that Red could faintly hear the falling rope as it struck the ground. Another cast, and yet another, both unsuccessful, and then the fourth, which held. The puncher stepped back into the shadow again and another figure appeared, to go jerking himself up the face of the wall. While he watched the scaling operations Red was not missing anything on the top of the mesa, where the moon bathed everything in a silvery light.
Then he saw another figure follow the first and kick energetically as it clambered over onto the ledge. Soon a rope fell to the plain and the last man up, who was Skinny, leaned far out and cast at the second ledge, Pete holding him. After some time he was successful and again he and his companion went up the wall. Pete climbed rapidly, his heavy body but small weight for the huge, muscular arms which rose and fell so rapidly. On the second ledge the same casting was gone through with, but it was not until the eighth attempt that the rope stayed up. Then Red, rising on his elbows, put his head closer to the stock of his rifle and peered into the shadows back of the lighted space on the rocky pile. He saw Pete pull his companion back to safety and then, leaping forward, grasp the rope and climb to the top. Already one of the others was part way up the second rope while another was squirming over the lower ledge, and below him a third kicked and hauled, half way up the first lariat.