CHAPTER XXI
THE BANDITS
When Jo saw the gulch ahead, he decided that discretion was the better part of valor as he did not know his mount well enough to risk the leap, so he galloped a few hundred feet below, where the gulch narrowed and then he took the jump nicely, and scampered after the other two riders who were quite a way ahead.
Jim purposely held Caliente in check, keeping a hundred yards in the rear of the Spaniard. Ahead a few miles, there was a perfect sea of yellow where the tall mustard covered the plain for a great distance. Into this they charged full tilt, the mustard reaching as high as their heads.
There was a swish of its blossoms in their faces as the powerful horses charged into it and in spite of their strength they began to tire after going some distance.
"Where is Jo?" inquired Jim suddenly after they had slowed down, "I don't see a sign of him." And he rose in his stirrups looking over the level lake of mustard.
"Hello, Jo," he yelled at the top of his voice. No answer came. Could he be drowned in this lake? There was not a motion to indicate his whereabouts, no waving of the yellow tops.
"It is very strange," said the Spaniard. "Did he cross the gully all right?"
"Yes, I saw him take the jump below us a ways." Then Jim raised his revolver above his head and fired.
"That ought to fetch him," he said. Then they listened intently. Suddenly about a quarter of a mile ahead of them they saw a sombrero rise like a gray mushroom above the yellow surface of the mustard, and Jo's voice came back to them.