"Better be careful," said Jack. "I've heard that these mountain hermits are a queer lot, and this one might shoot us."
"Hi-yi!" yelled Pete suddenly, "look at that!"
Jack looked, and saw that projecting through a cranny in the stone wall was the rusty muzzle of a rifle, seemingly of big caliber.
There was something uncanny in the sight of this sinister weapon, aimed dead at them, with apparently no human hand to guide it.
"Better get out of range, son," warned Pete, reining over his pony; "that feller might be nervous on the trigger."
But as they swung to one side of the trail the ominous rifle barrel followed, still keeping them covered.
"Confound the fellow!" burst out Jack, hardly knowing whether to be amused or angry, "what does he mean?"
"Business, apparently," grunted Pete dryly.
"Hi, amigo!" the cow-puncher suddenly shouted.