He held his man under cover, and it would have been impossible for him to escape.
Straight up into the mountain fastness, for a mile, the outlaw led the way, and they left no trail that could possibly have been followed save possibly by a bloodhound.
If it has seemed that Deadwood Dick was acting unwisely, and was assuming too great risks, it was not altogether without some compensating objects in view. He wanted to learn some of the secrets of this Red Rover who had become a terror in the State.
Finally, on a plateau on the very summit of a low peak, Captain Joaquin stopped.
"Here we are," he said.
It was a scene of wildest grandeur.
On every hand higher peaks rose and overshadowed the one on which they stood.
There was but one approach to the plateau, the way they had come. Every other side presented a sheer descent that could not be scaled.
Just back from the place where they had stepped up onto the rock table was a depression in which lay a boulder that was seemingly loose and possibly movable.
"And your cache is under that boulder?" asked Dick.