They still had ten long, uphill miles ahead of them. Johnny began to believe they would make it. But what about tonight? The horses they rode would have to face the test again then. The boy knew they would never meet it.
Better to drive them now to their last ounce of endurance and make sure of temporary safety.
“Give ’em the spurs!” he cried. “Crowd ’em!”
With it all they were none too soon. Ten minutes after they had entered the mine, their horses ahead of them, the posse swung around the bend below.
“They can’t be dumb enough to miss us,” Johnny grumbled. “Some of them may go by; but they’ll be back. We’ll fight it out here.”
Charlie and he crawled out upon the tailings from the mine, and there, flat on their stomachs, they watched the men swarming below them.
“Spotted us first crack,” the boy said with a growl. “I knew it! Couldn’t fool old Hobe. He savvies this country.”
“Me shoot now?” Charlie questioned.
“No, not now. By and by we shoot. They won’t smoke us out of here in a hurry.”
Down below the men were spreading out fanwise. Johnny caught glimpses of them as they moved from cover to cover. They had sent their horses down the cañon.