The Rubicon was crossed. Only time would tell the results.
The trapper led the way, gliding through the shadows as noiseless as a panther.
Gradually they approached the Pass.
They had no doubt that sentries would be found posted in the vicinity, so it was necessary to proceed with the very greatest of care.
But as they crept on, to their relief and surprise they did not encounter anything of the kind.
The way seemed clear and they crept into the Pass like silent shadows.
Beaver Bill was an adept at this sort of thing.
But he speedily found that it was not foreign to Frank Reade, Jr. The young inventor was as silent and tactful as the trapper.
This seemed to reassure the latter. Suddenly Bill came to a halt.
He made a funnel of his hands and whispered faintly in Frank’s ear: