“Hold on, what’s that?” Scott stopped his horse suddenly.
“What’s what?” demanded the girl, startled. Then as he did not answer, but continued to stare in the direction of Athens, she cried impatiently: “What are you looking at? Tell me now—this minute!”
Scott took a pair of field-glasses from a case on his saddle. He handed them to the girl.
“Does that look to you like Juan Pachuca’s car down by the store?”
Polly looked. “It does, doesn’t it?” she said. “But it’s too far to be sure. Who do you suppose those men are on horseback?”
“I don’t know,” said Scott, shortly, as he took the glasses and looked again. “But I don’t like the looks of it. Let’s whip up and get to that arroyo that runs back of the camp. We’ll ride the rest of the way in it.”
They descended into the arroyo which was a deep one with sheltering sides that rose above them fully ten feet.
“It doesn’t go all the way,” objected the girl, who was beginning to know the geography of the place already.
“I don’t want it to,” replied Scott. “It turns off and runs at an angle—just above the dining-room. I’m going to leave you and the horses there out of sight.”
“Leave us!”