They kept along the ridge until it was cut by a cañon. Here they descended and entered another long, narrow ravine which they negotiated at a gallop. At its upper end they again climbed a steep slope. Their horses were showing the strain of the hours of hard riding. Rathburn realized that they could go but a limited distance. But the members of the posse most assuredly must be in the same fix so far as their mounts were concerned.
He decided that if they could get into the cañon unseen they would be able to rest their horses and remain secure for the night. Next morning they could continue on up into the hills, or slip back by a roundabout way to Dry Lake.
His lips froze into a thin white line. He did not look at the man with him as they paused for a few moments under the trees which covered the top of the ridge and gazed at a long, gently sloping stretch of nearly open country. It was covered with clumps of trees at intervals, that reached to 55 the dark, narrow opening in the mountains, marking the entrance to Sunrise Cañon and the trail to the fastnesses of the higher hills.
“You can swing off here to the left an’ down a wide valley to where there’s a cut-off into Dry Lake,” he heard his captive suggesting. “I don’t see any sense in all this hard ridin’ an’ hidin’ if you’re goin’ to turn me in.”
“We’ll go on,” growlingly replied Rathburn.
They descended the ridge and entered the long, sloping valley, so wide that it virtually was a plain. They made good headway, although they favored their horses. They took advantage of the shelter provided by the occasional clumps of pines. The afternoon was drawing to a close with the sun dipping sharply toward the western hills when they came in sight of the entrance to the cañon. But with the first glimpse they checked their horses and turned into the shelter of some trees near by.
“Beat us to it!” exclaimed Percy.
“Four of ’em,” said Rathburn, frowning. “Brown ain’t taking any chances. He’s a better man than I figured him out. An’ there’s more of ’em!”
He pointed westward where two riders were barely discernible on the crest of a ridge. They disappeared almost immediately in the timber below.
“We’ll turn back,” Rathburn decided. “We’ll ride with the trees between us an’ the men up at the cañon, an’ keep an eye out for the pair to the west. You might watch that side, an’ I’ll look out for the east an’ south. C’mon, let’s drift.”