“Sandy and I can handle it,” said the driller. “We’ll take the jeep. If we get in a jam we’ll send up a rocket or something.”
On the slow, twenty-mile drive to Elbow Rock, Ralph spun old tales about Ute scouting expeditions and buffalo hunts, but Sandy scarcely listened. He was feeling miserable, and wished for the first time that he was back home in Valley View.
“You don’t like what we’re doing, do you?” Ralph said at last.
“Well, gee. Eavesdropping seems sort of sneaking.”
“I know it does, but don’t forget that we’re dealing with a sneak. Tell you what: you stay in the car. I’ll take the ear in.”
“No,” Sandy said firmly. “I’ll do anything I can to help Mr. Hall. Besides, I helped build the ear and know just how it works. I’ll carry it.”
They parked as close to Cavanaugh’s brightly lighted trailer as they dared. Then Sandy strapped the detector on his chest and walked slowly up the mountain in darkness so intense and silent that it could almost be felt. Remembering the lay of the land from the time that he and Quiz had visited the spot with Pepper, he managed to stay mostly on the trail.
He was still several hundred yards from the trailer when the night exploded in a blare of savage noise. Several large dogs had started baying furiously near the trailer. A door opened. Cavanaugh shouted angrily at a pack of long-legged animals that leaped and whined in the shaft of light.
When quiet had been restored, Sandy inched forward once more. But it was no use. The chorus of barks rose louder than before and several of the dogs started in his direction. With mixed emotions of annoyance and relief, he returned to the jeep and reported.
“Dogs!” Ralph growled. “That means Cavanaugh really has something to hide. What did they look like?”