"What's he up to?" demanded Red.
"Goin' to set fire to th' shack," answered Johnny, and he forthwith explained the whole affair.
"Huh!" grunted Red. "There ain't no doubt in my mind that it'll work if he can get there an' get th' fire started." He was silent for a moment and then pulled his hat more firmly down on his head. "If he don't get there, I'll give it a whirl. Anyhow, I'd have to leave cover to get to him if he went down so it ain't much worse goin' th' rest of th' way. An' I'm tellin' you this: That lone loophole is shore goin' to be bad medicine for anybody tryin' to use it after he starts. I'll put 'em through it so fast they'll be crowdin' each other."
"An' while yo're reloadin' I'll keep 'em goin'," said Johnny, patting his borrowed Winchester. "They'll shore think somebody's squirtin' 'em out of a hose."
Some time later he stopped his horse and peered around in the faint light.
Red stopped, also. "This th' place?"
"Looks like it—we ought to get some sign of Hoppy purty soon. Anyhow, we'll wait awhile. Glad that moon ain't very bright."
"An' cussed glad for th' clouds," added Red. "Clouds like them ain't th' rule in this part of the country." He leaned over and looked down at the sand. "Tracks, Kid," he said. "Follow 'em?"
"No," answered his companion slowly. "I'm bettin' they're Hoppy's. Stay with th' cayuses—I'm goin' to look around," and as he dismounted they heard a hail. Red swung to the ground as their friend appeared.