the Apaches.
Before the horse was led through the cage door out upon the smooth
ledges at the foot of the cliff the Apache fastened thick pads of
rawhide upon his hoofs. This was also done for the ponies as they swung
down, two by two, in the cage.

Lennon had noted the arrangement and working of the crane and hoist with
the eye of an engineer. When he turned his attention to the hoof pads,
Slade gratuitously explained that the rawhide was needed to keep the
horses from slipping on the ledges of the cliff. Lennon took this with a
careless nod.

He had already inferred the true reason for the practice. The ledges
were neither slippery nor steep. But scratches made by ironshod hoofs on
the rocks might have led expert trackers to suspect the hoisting of
stolen stock up the cliff.

Down where the bed was of loose stones and gravel a rough trail from the
lower canon twisted up a side gorge. Pursuers trailing a bunch of stolen
cattle or horses would of course turn up the gorge. A glance or two at
the sheer thirty-foot wall of the upstep in the bed of the main canon
would convince the most astute of cowboys that not even a puma could go
up that way.

At the edge of the trail the Apache took off the hoof-pads and returned
to the cage. He was being hoisted up the cliff when Lennon loped after
Slade down-trail around a sharp bend in the canon.

A hard ride down the canon for five miles or more, then up a steep break
and across cedar-dotted mesas, brought the party out to the Moqui trail
shortly after mid-morning. Lennon frowned at the clear-marked trail.

His plans as first made had been to cut and run for the railway the
moment he should reach the main trail. But he had discovered that his
pony was the slowest of the mounts and that the four Navahos always kept
behind him. He could neither drop to the rear nor race ahead of Slade's
big American thoroughbred.

Slade turned to the right, away from the railway, and pushed the pace
for another hour. The trail led through a rather wide valley. Near the
head they came to a well-watered oasis of corn and bean fields. Across
from the trail stood an abandoned Moqui pueblo.

The ruins had been sufficiently restored to house Slade's trading
establishment and the score or more families of his Navaho cowpunchers.
The small storeroom was crowded with bales and boxes, but Lennon noticed
that behind the front piles many of the boxes were empty. This
legitimate business was more or le