Harding, who had crawled in among the chapparal, started back, as Jack's voice addressed him, coming in low, tense accents from the interior of the cave:
"Remember, Harding, we saved your life this morning—are you going to betray us now?"
"Is that you, Merrill? You see I know your name. That was a shabby trick you worked on us."
"Shabby trick! Our lives were at stake," retorted Jack.
"Hurry up thar, young feller," came from below in Rafter's voice; "by hemlock, I thought I hearn horses up ther canyon apiece."
"All right; I'll be there—just investigating," flung back Harding. "What do you want me to do, Merrill?"
"What your own conscience suggests," was the reply.
"But, if they ever found out, it would cost me my life," almost whimpered Harding, all his craven nature showing now.
"But they never will. Don't let them know we are here, and ride on. We will escape, if possible, and if we are caught, your secret is safe with us."
"You—you'll promise it?"