"Now you'll stay hitched," he went on, speaking to their prisoner. "And you'd better hold that horse mighty steady, because if he jumps from under you it'll be good-bye for one scalawag."
"If you'd let me down I'd do like you told me, Mr. Crawford," pleaded
Miller. "It's right uncomfortable here."
"Keep still. Don't say a word. Yore friends are gettin' close. Let a chirp outa you, and you'll never have time to be sorry," warned the cattleman.
The two men tied their horses behind some heavy mesquite and chose their own cover. Here they crouched down and waited.
They could hear the horses of the outlaws climbing the hill out of the valley to the pass. Then, down in the cañon, they caught a glimpse of Thomas in wild flight. The bandits stopped at the divide.
"They'll be headin' this way in a minute," Crawford whispered.
His companion nodded agreement.
They were wrong. There came the sound of a whoop, a sudden clatter of hoofs, the diminishing beat of horses' feet.
"They've seen Thomas, and they're after him on the jump," suggested Dave.
His friend's eyes crinkled to a smile. "Sure enough. They figure he's the tail end of our party. Well, I'll bet Thomas gives 'em a good run for their money. He's right careless sometimes, but he's no foolhardy idiot and he don't aim to argue with birds like these even though he's a rip-snorter when he gets goin' good and won't stand any devilin'."