“We’ll have enough for supper, even with Old Bill here,” said Chuck as he surveyed the catch of silver beauties.
During the day they kept a close watch on the trail but it was not until late afternoon that Old Bill appeared riding up out of the valley. He was leading a horse and his own saddlebags were bulging with articles he had purchased on the other side of the Cajons.
Chuck looked at the horse with a critical eye.
“That’s a skinny nag you brought me,” he said, after greetings had been exchanged.
“Maybe it will take a little of the extra weight off you; kinda saw you down in the middle,” chuckled Old Bill as he swung out of his saddle.
They gave the cattleman a hand in unloading the saddlebags and unfastening the boots which he had tied to his saddle.
Chuck hobbled the cayuse Old Bill had brought for him and then joined the others in camp.
“Have to move across the creek?” asked Bill.
“A little company rode up the trail yesterday and I figured it was best not to be seen,” said Chuck. “Slim saw them higher up the trail, but he gave them the slip, too. They were going up to the crest of the Cajons to make sure that no one else wanders into this country by that route.”
Old Bill nodded thoughtfully.