She tapped her horse sharply on his neck with her switch, and off she galloped, Florence and José following closely.
When they reached the foot of the mountain, Florence called to Jo Ann, “We’ll have to let José lead the way from now on. He says we leave the road here.”
Somewhat reluctantly Jo Ann checked her horse’s pace to allow José to lead. Slowly and in single file they began winding their way up a rocky trail. After about an hour’s climb it became so steep and narrow that even Jo Ann, experienced rider that she was, began to grow nervous.
With the towering wall of rock on her right and the deep canyon below, she realized that if her horse should make a single misstep it might be fatal. She shuddered at the thought of how easy it would be for the kidnaper to make away with Carlitos in such a place as this. One little push would mean death.
“Florence,” she called back, “I’ve been thinking how easy it’d be to make away with anyone in such a wild, lonesome spot. You don’t think that man’d push Carlitos off this precipice, do you?”
“No, no,” Florence called back quickly. “I’m sure he’ll take him on to the mine. That mean boss wouldn’t pay him a large sum of money till he was sure he had the right boy.”
“I believe you’re right.” Encouraged by Florence’s words, Jo Ann rode on in better spirits. “If that kidnaper takes Carlitos clear to the mine, then we’ll be sure to overtake them,” she thought.
About half an hour later, as the horses were struggling up an unusually steep place, Jo Ann suddenly cried out a sharp, “José, stop!”
Startled, José checked his horse and looked back.
Jo Ann pointed down at a boy’s hat caught on a sharp point of rock jutting out from the edge of the cliff. “See! Carlitos’ hat!”