“Or any other country,” added Slim proudly. “We’ll amble. See you this afternoon for I’m going to take my time.”
“How about grub this noon?”
“I had enough at breakfast to last until supper.”
With a cheery wave to his companion, Slim gave Lightning her head and to the music of swiftly drumming hoofs, disappeared up the valley, heading back along the Sky High trail.
Slim soon brought Lightning down to an easy lope, a tireless pace that was capable of eating up the miles when on a day-long trail. But there was no need for even that much speed, and a few minutes later he pulled her down to a walk.
It was a glorious July morning such as only the Cajon country knows, with the air sweet and clean. As the trail mounted toward the crest, Slim turned to look toward the Creeping Shadows country. The air was clearer than on his first glimpse from the summit, and he could see the broad valley lying below the Three Soldiers.
Even at that distance it was clear that there were many open meadows and from what Slim knew of the country, they would be rich with the grass needed to make fat cattle. It seemed incredible that such a beautiful country was a land of lawlessness and violence where the life and wealth of a man like Adam Marks was in daily danger.
From a distance came the faint drumming of hoofs. Slim had no desire to be seen on the trail and he sent Lightning leaping behind the protection of a dense thicket. His rifle was in camp, but his revolver was in the holster at his side. With deft hands, he made sure that the gun was ready for instant use. Then he slipped off Lightning’s back and stepped up to the sorrel’s head, placing one hand gently over the nostrils. He couldn’t afford to have Lightning whinny as the other riders passed by.
A few seconds later two horsemen appeared down the trail. They had evidently been riding hard, but the grade steepened just below Slim and they brought their tired horses down to walk. The riders were dressed in conventional cowboy garb, Stetsons, blue shirts with a kerchief caught carelessly around the neck and well worn leather chaps. Each man carried sidearms and a rifle in the boot on his saddle. They were burned to a deep brown by days in the sun, but there was also a hardness about their features that was not reassuring to Slim. They looked like a couple of tough customers.
Slim could hear them talking and he listened intently to catch their words.