"Stop the hoss!" cried Watson. "If ye don't he'll bang the young man's head off!"
Before he had ceased speaking Allen was on the ground. He ran back and caught Noel's horse by the bridle. The young man from the east was partly stunned, and it was several seconds before he could recover sufficiently to disengage his foot and arise from his dangerous position.
"Good for you, Allen!" he cried, as he stood by, while the young ranchman assisted the horse to a safe spot in the trail. "I was afraid I was in for it."
"Ye did jes' the right thing, Allen," put in Ike Watson. "Dunno but wot ye hed better walk a brief spell," he went on to Noel, who was only too glad to do so.
Half an hour later the top of the rocks was reached, and they moved back to where the way was smooth and safe. A lunch was had from the pouches, and on they went as fast as the fatigued horses would carry them.
"I can see no trail," said Noel, as he rode abreast of his companions.
"There ain't no need ter see a trail hyer," replied Ike Watson. "This yere way is a blind pocket fer all o' these three miles. Ye couldn't go no different if ye tried. Byme-by, when we come out on Sampson's flats, we'll look for the trail ag'in."
"We ought to catch up to those men before we reach the flats," remarked Allen. "They must be tired out by that climb."
"We ain't fur off," rejoined Watson. "Jes' keep silent half an hour longer, an' we'll——"
He broke off short, reigned in his steed, and pointed ahead.