Jim now saw that the Pass was an irregular one with recurrent spurs, thrusting out from the mountains on either side, at quite frequent intervals. There were innumerable chances for ambuscades. Jim did not stand in the trail but to one side partially hidden in a thicket.
All the time his keen eyes were taking in the canyon below, not however admiring the scenery. In fact there was nothing particularly beautiful, or interesting in the view. In the Rockies and further South too he had seen canyons incomparable to the rather ordinary ones that he had seen in California.
Jim was watching for some slight movement of a living creature in the canyon. Finally he gave it up, and was about to turn away, then he gave a start, he saw one, two, three, men crouch across the trail, a quarter of a mile below, and disappear into the thick brush. He was almost certain that the first one was the hunchback.
That was all that Jim wanted to see. He noiselessly took the back trail, thinking over the best course to pursue. He would have liked nothing better under ordinary circumstances than to fight it out with the outlaws and to capture the hunchback. But their first object must be the rescue of Tom and Juarez.
Was there not some way by which they could get to the South without going through this bandit infested Pass?
"Well brother, what didst thou find?" inquired Jo, who was at times pleased to be dramatic.
"Very few specimens in the way of bandits," replied Jim.
"As I said, Senor," remarked the Spaniard, "they have become good citizens."
"Not yet, I am sure, because they are alive."
"That is a good one, Jim," remarked Jo, appreciatively, but the Spaniard was politely mystified. "Same as Indians."