Resistance was hopeless. His air of reckless bravado gone, boiling inwardly at the indignity forced upon him, Ross swung and trudged off up the canon trail.
For perhaps a quarter of a mile the narrow canon cleaved straight through the rock. Then it suddenly began a series of intricate turns, as though it had attempted a passage and had been baffled and forced to take a new direction about every fifty feet.
For a while, Ross stalked on without speaking. Suddenly he turned his head and spoke.
“Just where are you taking me, and who is the ‘big boss’?”
“Never mind askin’ dam’ fool questions. Keep movin’!”
After another quarter mile of sharp turns, the canon suddenly broadened, and Ross found himself looking out into a basin bounded on all sides by high, perpendicular rock walls, smooth and straight.
The basin was oval in shape, and near the center was a group of ’dobe buildings, five in number. Toward these the captor directed their progress.
As he advanced, Ross looked keenly for signs of life, but though he sought every possible nook and cranny with his gaze, he could see neither man nor beast. The place seemed to be absolutely deserted.
At the first building, a small ’dobe structure that stood somewhat apart from the others, Ross was ordered to halt. Opening a heavy door, the man motioned with his gun for him to enter. Ross stepped over the threshold, and instantly the door clanged shut behind him.
He heard the heavy bolt drop into place. Then he heard his captor walking away.