The two adventurers were in about as insecure a position as could be imagined. Their feet rested on a ledge of masonry not much more than six inches in width, which circled the bell tower. The ground was a hundred feet or more below them. The lariat they had with them, and which was securely fastened in Pete's belt, was not more than thirty feet at the most.
As they hesitated in the darkness, scarcely daring to breathe on their insecure perch, there came a sudden shout from within the tower.
"Wa'al, they've found out that something's up," grunted Pete, while Jack's blood seemed to turn to ice in his veins. Below them was empty space; above, the Mexican outlaws.
[CHAPTER XI.]
A DROP IN THE DARK.
"Hark!"
It was Jack who uttered the exclamation.
The shouts were growing louder. Evidently the Mexicans had kept a closer watch than he or Pete had imagined, and had quickly taken alarm at the prolonged absence of their companion.