“We’ll keep to the water as much as possible,” said Fair, “because there are other eyes than ours here sometimes.”
They passed the empty cave where Nance had found Sonny and Dirk and followed the stream on up to the mouth of Little Blue.
“From up in there,” said Fair, riding ahead, “I saw one of the Cathrew riders—a man named Provine—driving a red steer up this way.”
“Ah!” said the sheriff, adding to himself—“and so did Nance Allison. These young folks seem to know each other pretty well.”
“He went on north and disappeared. I followed next day and came upon a mystery—some more of this water travel which leads nowhere.”
“We’ve had a lot of that,” said Selwood bitterly, “it’s what has baffled the whole country.”
“Well—I’ll show you something,” said Fair, “that may set you guessing.”
The keen blue shadows were cold and the voices were murmuring in the high escarpments.
Through pools and over shale, where ever they could, they put their horses, avoiding the sand, and presently, when the sunlight had crept almost down to the floor of the cañon, they came out at the spot where the right wall fell away abruptly showing the plains stretched out like a dry brown floor, dotted with sparse bunch grass.
On the left the great precipice continued unbroken.