With wild eyes, flashing with triumph, Jack Drivewell sat once more on his horse, his haggard face turned toward Cut-throat.
He did not look like a sane man; there was the unmistakable make-up of the lunatic about him.
He sat there statue-like and stern until a sound startled him, and made his eyes flash.
Quick as a flash of lightning he drew his revolvers and leaned forward.
But the next instant he started back and hugged the canyon wall. In that position he sat and held his breath while Captain Harry and his Vigilantes rode past entirely unconscious of his presence.
“The boy and Maverick together?” he repeated twenty times. “What does it mean? Ah, if I thought they war huntin’ the big bonanza, I’d hev asserted my right to the whole claim.”
The Vigilantes moved on, their hoof-beats did not rouse the echoes of the canyon; but Old Jack still occupied his halting-place.