They surrounded the ranch. Sam Hogg and his men joined them. Slowly they closed in upon the silent building as dusk was obscuring the land. But no firing greeted them. The building was empty; that wary bird, Cupid Dart, alias Mac Kennedy, had flown to safer parts.
“Musta made his get-away to the gang’s stronghold,” Allen commented.
He led the others up a narrow trail into the lava fields. Here, in a cuplike depression, they found the judge’s cows, as well as several hundred other stolen animals. All had been rebranded and were being held there until the new brands healed. Of the men guarding the cattle all had escaped. The place was totally deserted, and they prepared to make camp for the night.
It was then that Allen discovered Snippets was still with them; he thought she had gone on into town long before. He stared at her, open-mouthed.
“What yuh doin’ here?” he asked.
“No one told me to go anywhere else.” Snippets smiled demurely and mischievously.
“Yuh wanted to be along in the ruckus, kid?” Allen accused. “Yuh should’ve gone home an’ told folks you wus all right.”
Snippets hung her head meekly. She knew that he knew why she had lingered. She had wanted to remain by his side as long as possible.
A shelter of blankets was rigged for her; they could not send her home now before morning.
After the others were asleep, Allen slipped out alone and followed the outlaws’ trail for several miles. It climbed rapidly to the remains of an old mine shaft. Suddenly there loomed before him a low, one-story adobe house. He realized that he was looking at the real stronghold of the outlaws.