The decision pleased the Scouts. Tired though they were, the hard climb was a challenge. Besides, they felt they never would be satisfied until they learned whether or not Old Stony’s tale of the valley was true.
With the distant ghost town as the immediate objective, the party soon started the sharp descent.
“Keep close together, boys,” Warner warned. “We don’t want to start any rock slides.”
The footing was slippery. Twice War, who had not balanced his horseshoe pack well that morning, stumbled and would have fallen if Jack had not seized his arm.
“Careful,” the rancher warned again. “A broken leg or even a sprained ankle could be a serious matter, now that we’re so far from help.”
As they continued, Jack saw the rancher glance frequently at the younger boys. War was a fairly new member of the Explorers and not so well seasoned as the others to withstand hardships. Jack himself wondered if War would be able to hold out.
At noon, the party stopped briefly by a stream, to drink and refill canteens. While the others rested, Warner whipped the pools with his fly rod and brought in four handsome trout for the meal.
The halt refreshed War only for a while. Soon it was apparent that he was beginning to falter. Warner, who was leading, slowed his pace but, even so, both War and Willie trailed.
It was a relief when finally, hours later, the party trudged into the old ghost town which had been built hard against the shadowy mountainside. The silence of the place was almost oppressive.
Dropping his pack, Jack stared at the unpainted wooden buildings which had fallen into decay. The two that were made of stone and brick were in somewhat better condition. The row of old, deserted cabins gave him an eerie, uneasy feeling. He wandered into one of the musty buildings.