In order to do this it was necessary to make a wide detour of fully forty miles.
But this was not much of a run for the Steam Man.
Frank pushed along at the steady rate of twenty miles per hour.
It was just sunset when the upper spur of the Los Pueblos range was rounded.
Then a trail was encountered.
It was broad and well beaten, and gave evidence of being much used.
Where it led to Frank could only guess, but he took it, as it led in the direction he wished to follow.
But before he had followed it far, a sharp cry escaped Pomp’s lips.
“Look yender, Marse Frank! Whateber am dat?”
Frank looked in the direction indicated and experienced a thrill.