They could now almost look down upon the greasers’ stronghold.
The tall derricks used in excavating the mine shaft were to be plainly seen, and smoke rising above the trees suggested the presence of a steam engine of the stationary kind.
“It is evident that there lies the gold claim which rightfully belongs to Harvey Montaine,” mused Frank. “I can understand now Senor Ravello’s assertion that the position of the greasers was unassailable. Indeed, with a handful of men a small army could be held at bay here.”
This had certainly the appearance of a logical fact.
One thing was sure, the greasers had guarded the approaches to their mine well and strongly.
Frank gazed reflectively at the distant camp and thought of Harvey Montaine presumably a prisoner there.
“We must effect his rescue in some manner,” he muttered. “But how?”
Frank took a careful survey of the valley and the hills but he could see no way of reaching the greasers’ camp.
Yet he felt sure that there was a way. How to find this was the problem.
However, nothing was to be gained by remaining in his present position.