The railroad had been graded along the side of the hill, so that the opposite side dropped off about twenty or thirty feet, where the brush grew thick along the fence. Hashknife estimated where the rear end of the cattle-train would have been, and they walked back along the track to the first curve.
Just beyond that there was considerable seepage of water on the lower side, where grew a profusion of tules and cattails, mingled with wild-roses and willows. The bank was rather abrupt along here and heavy brush grew between the track and the upper fence.
Hashknife slid cautiously down this bank, hooking his heels into the broken rock. There was more water, covered with a greenish slime.
“Hook yore heels, cowboy,” laughed Sleepy. “One little mistake, and you take a green-water bath.”
Hashknife worked down to the water edge and went slowly along about fifty feet. Then he stopped and sat back against the bank. For several moments he studied the tangle of brush and green water. Then he turned his head and looked up at the two men above him.
“I’ve found him,” he said.
“You’ve found him?” gasped Honey.
“Uh-huh. One foot still on dry land. I thought it was just an old shoe. He must ’a’ went in head first. There’s his lantern in the muck—just the bottom of it stickin’ out.”
Hashknife turned around and climbed up the bank. From the track level he could not see the shoe nor the lantern. He heaped up a pile of stones beside the track to mark the spot.
“Ain’t we goin’ to take him out?” asked Sleepy.