"I reckon it's no bluff, Jim. He's a chauffeur, all right, but he only drives out select outfits."
"Meaning?"
The map lying in front of Keller was one of Noches County. The nester located, with his index finger, the town of that name, and traced the road from it to Seven Mile. Then his finger went back to Noches, and followed the old military road to Fort Lincoln, a route which almost paralleled the one to the ranch.
The eyes of Phyllis were already shining with excitement. She divined what was coming.
"Is this road still travelled, Jim?"
"It goes out to the old fort. Nobody has lived there for most thirty years. I reckon the road ain't travelled much."
"Strikes through Del Oro Cañon, doesn't it, right after it leaves Noches?"
"Yep."
"I reckon, Jim, your friend, Spiker, drove a party out that way the afternoon of the holdup," the nester drawled smilingly. "By the way, is your friend in the lockup?"
"He sure is. The deputy sheriff arrested him same night we went through his room."