“It will take my wife a long time to forget all we owe you,” the leader remarked more than once.
At the end of two hours’ travel, the latter stages of which were taken through dark and sinuous windings along a densely-verdured ravine, their pilot ascended a long slope.
“There’s your searchlight still going,” he said, pointing to the broad waving flare in the sky. “I dare not go any farther with you for two reasons,” he explained. “In the first place I’m over what we call the safety line. In the next place I want to get back in time to start a daylight hunt after those MacGuffins.”
“I feel sure we can find our way to the Albatross now,” said the young aviator.
“Say, that was a queer adventure, wasn’t it now?” spoke Hiram, as their recent guide waved his hand in a friendly way and disappeared like a flash back the route they had come.
“These rough fellows are true blue when you touch the right spot,” declared the airman. “We seem to be on higher level ground than before. Let us get along as fast as we can, so we can send the horses back.”
The outlaw leader had insisted that they retain the steeds. He had instructed them to simply head them back homewards when they were through with them.
“Don’t fret,” he had said, confidently, “they’ll be sure to find the camp feeding trough before breakfast time.”
“This has been quite an adventure, as you say, Hiram,” remarked Mr. King, as they trotted single file on account of the narrow course.
“With probably a lot more of it waiting us along the line,” added Dave.