"He maybe's laying for us yet," said Bob, as the thought finally occurred to him. "Better have your gun handy."
"My gun's always handy," said Ware.
"You're bearing too far south," interposed the girl. "He was more up this way."
"Don't think it," said Ware.
"Yes," she insisted. "I marked that young fir near where I first saw him; and he ran low around that clump of manzañita."
Still skeptical, Ware joined her.
"That's right," he admitted, after a moment. "Here's his trail. I'd have swore he was farther south. That's where I fired. I only missed him by about a hundred yards," he grinned. "He sure made a mighty tall sneak. I'm still figuring why he didn't open fire."
"Waiting for a better chance, maybe," suggested Amy.
"Must be. But what better chance does he want, unless he aims to get Bob here, with a club?"
They followed the tracks left by Saleratus Bill until it was evident beyond doubt that the gun-man had in reality departed. Then they started to retrace their steps.