“Don’t worry, Buck. Our diamond drill’s going to strike pay ore sure. It’s the Dodson crowd that’s likely to be in borrasca. Now if you’re all ready we’ll be travelling.”
Byers led the way up the gulch back of the corral. Before the party had gone far a young moon came out and lit the path. They picked their trail through the sage and greasewood to the head of the ravine and followed a draw which took into the cow-backed hills. The pony express rider wound round to the rear of Bald Knob and climbed a spur upon which grew a fairly thick grove of pine nut. Here he stopped.
“Better camp here, I reckon.”
The men unrolled their blankets and prepared a fireless camp. Soon most of them were sound asleep. Scot and Byers moved up the shoulder of the hill to reconnoitre. They knew that guards would be watching to prevent a surprise, so they took precautions against being seen. By following a swale through the brush they were able to come close enough to see dimly the shaft house of the Ground Hog and the slaty dump which straggled below like a thin beard.
“Looks quiet enough,” Scot whispered.
Byers nodded.
“Hugh won’t begin to paint the sky till after midnight,” the Colonel went on. “About that time we’ll bring the men up here into the draw and have them ready. You’re sure that little fellow Madden is all right? He won’t betray us?”
“You can tie to him,” Byers said.
“I don’t doubt his good will. What about his judgment? He looks simple. That’s all right, too, if he’s not shrewd enough not to make a mistake.”
“He won’t.”