“No, I don’t,” Cass answered. “But let’s look this thing squarely in the face. There were three things he could do with her. First, he might leave her in the pit. He didn’t do that because he hadn’t the nerve. She might be found soon and set the hunters on his track. Or she might die in that hole and he be captured later with her pinto. I know him. He always plays a waiting game when he can. Takes no chances if he can help it.”
“You think he took her with him then,” Luck said.
“Yes. There’s a third possibility. He may have shot her when he got a good chance, but I don’t think so. He would keep her for a hostage as long as he could.”
“That’s the way I figure it,” agreed Cullison. “He daren’t hurt her, for he would know Arizona would hunt him down like a wolf if he did.”
“Then where’s he taking her?” Sam asked.
“Somewhere into the hills. He knows every pocket of them. His idea will be to slip down and cut across the line into Sonora. He’s a rotten bad lot, but he won’t do her any harm unless he’s pushed to the wall. The fear of Luck Cullison is in his heart.”
“That’s about it,” nodded Luck. “He’s somewhere in these hills unless he’s broken through. Bolt ’phoned me that one of his posse came on the ashes of a camp fire still warm. They’re closing in on him. He’s got to get food or starve, unless he can break through.”
“There’s a chance he’ll make for one of my sheep camps to lay in a supply. Wouldn’t it be a good idea to keep a man stationed at each one of them?”
“You’re talking sense,” Cullison approved. “Sam, ride back and get in touch with Curly. Tell him to do that. And rouse the whole country over the wire. We’ll run him down and feed him to the coyotes.”