"No use tryin' to slide out past the corral now," said Loudon. "We might as well use Main Street."
They were glad of their decision. They rode into Main Street just in time to see Archer and a companion turning the corner of the dance hall. The Flying M men headed northward. The other two turned their horses' heads to the south.
Where Main Street became the trail, Loudon and Laguerre swung eastward and loped steadily for several miles. When their shadows were long in front of them they climbed the reverse slope of a little hill.
Picketing their horses below the crest they lay down behind an outcrop and watched the back trail. Within thirty minutes appeared two dots on a ridge three miles distant.
"Just like wolves, ain't they?" chuckled Loudon, and wriggled backward.
"We weel bushwhack dem here, huh?" growled Laguerre. "Eet ees de good plass. Dey weel pass on our trail not two hundred yard away. We geet dem easy."
"No, not yet, Telescope," said Loudon. "It ain't necessary, anyhow. We'll ride on till it gets dark. Then we'll light a fire an' vamose, an' leave them holdin' the bag."
"Dat ees all right," Laguerre said, "but keelin' ees better. W'y not? No one weel know. Un eef dey do, w'at mattair? Dey are de teenhorn. We weel have dat all prove'. I say, keel dem, me."
Unconsciously Laguerre fingered the handle of his skinning-knife. Loudon laughed.
"C'mon," he said. "There'll be enough o' killin' before this job's over."