The outlaw's gun lay on the floor where it had been dropped in his fall, and a trail of blood led across the board floor. The sheriff snatched up the weapon, then crossed the room in a stride, flinging open the inner door. He peered down the tunnel.
"Some hideout!" he commented. "We'll look into this. Come on, men."
Marlin moved ahead of them, managing to delay progress by feeling his way with extreme caution through the dark passage. Eventually, they emerged on the shelving ledge.
"Where'd he go?" demanded the sheriff, surveying the scene.
"You know as much as I do."
A hasty search of bunkhouses and cook shack was sufficient to show that they were unoccupied. Two or three of the posse discovered a continuation of the blood trail, and they followed it to the descent which led to the sphere. Marlin's anxious eyes caught a glimpse of a bare foot disappearing in the entrance pipe. No one else was in sight.
"What's that big ball?" demanded the sheriff, staring.
"You've got me."
The blood trail led unmistakably toward the sphere. Soon the sheriff was peering curiously through the opening.
"The Kid's inside all right. Blood smears all down the pipe. Somebody climb in after him."