“Just be sure you bring back some gold,” Willie said with a grin, as the Scouts bade him good-by. “And keep your eyes peeled for trouble.”
The two trudged off, turning once to wave. Shouldering their packs, the others then started on the long climb in the opposite direction.
The sun glistened brightly on the high peaks. Jack tried to distinguish the two sentinel rocks which Old Stony had led them to believe guarded the entrance into the valley. However, all the peaks looked alike to him.
Warner had not exaggerated in warning that the climb would be hard. After two hours of it, the Scouts welcomed a rest. Jack dropped his bedroll and stretched out flat on his back.
Shading his eyes against the glare of the sun, he let his gaze wander over the distant peaks again. For just an instant, he thought he saw the flash of color against granite rock. Getting quickly to his feet, he asked Warner for his field glass.
“What do you see?” Ken demanded as Jack trained it on the rocks far above them. “The old man with whiskers?”
“Nothing,” Jack reported, crestfallen. “Thought for a minute it was someone’s red shirt.”
“You’re seeing things for sure!”
“Guess so,” Jack conceded with a grin. He returned the glass to its case and flopped on the ground once more.
After a twenty-minute rest, the party started on.