"When I meet Hank to-morrow he'll want some proof that I can turn over the youngster to him. He won't believe I can do so till he sees that proof. I'll show him this revolver, and he'll know it belongs to the youngster. That will be all the proof he'll ask. The rest will come easy; and, Motoza, you and I will be rich."
There was an emphasis in this declaration that was convincing to the dusky partner in crime. He nodded his head and made no further protest. Evidently he was under the influence of his white ally.
At this juncture the couple turned their backs upon the eavesdropper, who had stolen to within a few paces of them. They continued talking, but the change of position prevented his hearing what was said. It was peculiarly exasperating, for, though he had gained considerable information, he still lacked the most important news of all. He had heard no intimation of where the prisoner was held. Could he but learn that, he would have lost no time in attempting his rescue. It must be said, furthermore, that had such knowledge come to him he would not have hesitated to draw bead on the two miscreants in turn, and shoot them down in their tracks. He was thoroughly enraged, and they deserved the fate.
A few minutes after the change of position the couple walked away, side by side, still conversing. Certain discovery would have followed any attempt on the part of the cowman to keep at their heels or nigh enough to overhear their words, so he held his place and saw them pass from sight. He had noted the direction, however, and observed that it led from the canyon and deeper into the mountains.
This was puzzling. It seemed to Hank that one or both would make their way to the prison of the youth, for it was unlikely that he would be left alone through the night. Having no thought of being under surveillance, Motoza and Tozer would take a direct course to the place of confinement, which now seemed to be deeper in the mountains, and at some point of which the cowman had no suspicion.
It was of the highest importance that the couple should not be allowed to pass beyond sight, and the cowman began a cautious search for them. But once more he was doomed to disappointment. In the gathering twilight it was impossible to regain sight of them, and, convinced of the uselessness of the attempt, he gave it up.
"It begins to look as if Tozer holds the winning hand," he angrily muttered; "there ain't no question that the two have the younker safe, and I've no idee where to hunt fur him—but hold on!"
The conviction, or rather suspicion, that the prison of the youth was within the canyon returned to the hunter with redoubled force. Why had he not searched there before? If it was a mistake, no harm could follow; if it was not a mistake—well, he should see.
Wondering at himself because of his oversight, he abandoned all attempt to regain sight of the couple and headed for the break in the canyon. He arrived only a brief while after Jack Dudley attempted and failed to follow up the gorge, and except for the mishap of the youth the two would have met within the following few minutes. It has already been shown how narrowly they missed doing so.
The familiarity of the cowman with the canyon averted the mistake made by his young friend. He ascended it with scarcely any hesitation, although in the dense gloom his vision was almost useless. It was because of that that he well-nigh stepped upon the crouching figure without suspecting it. Reaching the stone where Jack had been overwhelmed by failure, the cowman paused for a minute and peered round in the gloom. Not until he had glanced upward and studied the projecting crags over his head as outlined against the starlit sky was he absolutely sure of his location. That glance made everything clear.