“I wonder,” remarked Lily, loud enough for the whole party to hear, “whether we wouldn’t dare turn aside here at the next crossroad. This seems to be shady, and the guide-book says that it is all right, and not out of our way.”
“I’m doubtful of detours,” laughed Marjorie. “Our experience before wasn’t so good.”
“Oh, there can’t be anything like that,” said Lily. “Unless you hate to leave the beaten track, I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”
“I’ll take a chance!” agreed Marjorie, turning into the crossroad.
Just as the guide-book stated, the route did prove more attractive; but, as Marjorie for some unknown reason suspected, a surprise awaited them. Hardly had they proceeded half a mile before two armed men on horseback suddenly appeared from the brushwood on the side of the road.
“I knew it!” whispered Marjorie, her eyes alight with expectancy. “The Crowells!”
“Never!” whispered Ethel. “They’re too old, even to be bribed—”
“We demand a search!” thundered the larger of the two men, peering from under his wide hat right into the startled eyes of the scouts. “Everyone get out, please!”
“A search for what?” faltered Mrs. Hart, her voice trembling with emotion.
“For booze! We are sheriffs of the state of Nevada!”