“I don’t understand why they rode so far apart,” 281 he said, “unless it was to make it hard for any one to track them. Looks to me, though, as if they were heading straight for that cut into the mountains you told me about. Is it much further off?”
“About a quarter of a mile below the little ’dobe shack we’re coming to,” Stratton answered. “The creek takes a sharp turn to the southeast, and right at the bend you cross and ride straight west into a narrow draw that doesn’t look like it went anywhere. Further on it twists around and leads into a short cañon that brings you through to a sort of valley lying between the hills. After that everything’s plain sailing. It’s almost as plain as a regular trail.”
“Good,” nodded Hardenberg. “Anything to mark the draw?”
Buck thought a minute. “As I remember, there’s a low ridge on the north side, and a big clump of mesquite on the right just before you leave the flats.”
“Well, you’ll be with us to act as guide. I wish we’d had an hour’s earlier start, though. It won’t be any cinch traveling through these mountains in the dark. Still, at the worst, we can count on Dick Jordan’s bunch to nab them as they come out.”
Buck nodded. “I’m not sure I can stick along with you much longer,” he added briefly. “But Jessup can show you the way quite as well. There seems to be 282 some doubt now about those people I spoke of being still at the ranch.”
“Humph! That would mean that Miss Thorne would be there alone?”
“Yes, except for her aunt. I may be worrying unnecessarily, but with a scoundrel like Lynch—”
“You never can tell,” finished the sheriff as he hesitated. “That’s true enough. We mustn’t take any chances. But how—”
“Telephone. There’s a line from the ranch-house to Las Vegas camp just ahead.” Buck pointed where, through the gathering dusk, the outlines of the adobe shack showed dimly. “If I find there’s no one with her, I’ll ride back.”