And, strange as it may seem, this feat was performed almost under the very nose of a watchful outlaw. The scout, of course, knew nothing about the outlaw’s location while he was making the climb. The discovery came as a surprise when he had crawled over the brink of the wall.
The first object he beheld was a horse, standing about a hundred feet from the rim of the valley. The horse had an empty saddle, and there were no other horses in its vicinity.
The scout immediately drew the conclusion that a lone outlaw had fired the shot at Tenny—perhaps an outpost, placed at that particular point to watch the approach to the Bluff.
Then, just as he had settled this question to his satisfaction, he crawled, snakelike, around a boulder, and saw the man himself.
The man was lying flat down on the other side of the boulder, a rifle in his hands and his eyes scanning the valley. It was plain enough that he was waiting for some sight or sound that would locate the party which had already been a target for him.
Still crawling, although with redoubled vigilance, the scout attempted to come close enough to take the man at unawares and effect a capture. In this he was not successful. The scraping sounds of his forward movement, indistinct almost as the tread of a puma, suddenly struck on the ears of the man with the gun.
He started up, and, just as he rose, the scout sprang erect, and came to hand-grips with him.
“Buffler Bill!” gasped the outlaw.
“Tex!” exclaimed the scout, with a short laugh. “You’re not much of a sniper, Tex. What are you doing with your ears?”
The outlaw swore heartily, and began to fight.