Wild went straight to the face of the cliff.
He put out his hand.
It was not rock that he touched, but a piece of canvas or similar material.
This was nothing new to the dashing young deadshot, for he had been up against all kinds of devices, and, he simply gave a low chuckle of satisfaction.
"I'm mighty glad I followed you, Mr. Cap Roche," he thought. "Now, I reckon it will be easy to settle the business. I'll just mark this spot, and then ride back to the camp."
It was an easy thing to mark the spot, for he did it by rolling three stones together, which he had no trouble in finding with his feet.
He took care that they were not directly in front of the hidden opening, so they could not be knocked aside by horses, should they come out.
But Wild knew just where he put them, anyhow, and then he went back to the waiting sorrel, and, mounting, rode off at a walk.
Not until he was a hundred yards from where he had mounted his horse did he set out at a gallop, and then he was not long in reaching the end of the pass.
Wild rode to the little camp and dismounted, surprising his waiting friends for getting back so soon.