They went back to the bottom of the cañon and had a drink at the little spring. A copper-colored rattler, stretched out on the top of a boulder, waiting for the sunshine, looked them over with beady eyes as they went past. They did not see the snake, and the snake was too torpid from the cold to sound a warning.
They climbed up from the bottom of the cañon near the old waterfall, and twisted their way around the huge boulder. Nan was in the lead, and, as she circled an outcropping of sandstone, she cried out sharply and stepped back, bumping Rex sideways.
A man was standing against the sandstone, covering them with a rifle, and so close was he that Nan’s elbow struck the barrel of the rifle as she jerked back. Her first impression was that it was the crazy man, but a second glance dissipated this idea.
The man was masked with a big bandanna handkerchief, with jagged eye-holes, and his slouch hat was pulled low over his forehead. For several moments he did not move or speak. Rex put his arms around Nan, and tried to draw her behind him.
‘Don’t move,’ warned the man harshly.
‘Who are you?’ demanded Rex.
‘Ne’mind who I am. Keep yore hands up and foller me.’
He backed slowly to the open hillside below the cave, which was not visible from there. Rex had shoved the empty revolver inside the waist-band of his trousers, and now the man stepped over and yanked it away. A quick glance showed him that the gun was empty.
‘Where’d yuh git that?’ he asked.
‘I—I found it,’ lied Rex.