d.

But they reached the shelter of the underbrush without a shot having been
fired. Nor had a single man appeared to dispute their escape.

"Looks like most of the family is away from home to-night," Bucky
hazarded.

"Maybe so, but they're liable to drop in any minute. We'll keep covering
ground."

They circled round toward the sheriff's horse. As soon as they reached it
West, still stiff from want of circulation in his cramped limbs, was
boosted into the saddle.

"It's going to be a good deal of a guess to find our way out of the
Cache," Jack explained. "Even in the daytime it would take a 'Pache, but
at night--well, here's hoping the luck's good."

They found it not so good as they had hoped. For hours they wandered in
mesquit, dragged themselves through cactus, crossed washes, and climbed
hills.

"This will never do. We'd better give it up till daylight. We're not
getting anywhere," the sheriff suggested.

They did as he advised. As soon as a faint gray sifted into the sky they
were on the move again. But whichever way they climbed it was always to
come up against steep cliffs too precipitous to be scaled.

The ranger officer pointed to a notch beyond a cowbacked hill. "I wouldn't
be sure, but it looks like that was the way they brought me into the
Cache. I could tell if I were up there. What's the matter with my going
ahead and settling the thing? If I'm right I'll come back and let you
know."

Jack looked at West. The railroad man was tired and drawn. He was not used
to galloping over the hills all night.

"All right. We'll be here when you come back," Flatray said, and flung
himself on the ground.

West followed his example.

It must have been half an hour later that Flatray heard a twig snap under
an approaching foot. He had been scanning the valley with his glasses,
having given West instructions to keep a lookout in the rear. He swung his
head round sharply, and with it his rifle.

"You're covered, you fool," cried the man who was strutting toward them.

"Stop there. Not another step," Flatray called sharply.

The man stopped, his rifle half raised. "We've got you on every side,
man." He lifted his voice. "Jeff--Hank--Steve! Let him know you're
alive."

Three guns cracked and kicked up the dust close to the sheriff.

"What do you want with us?" Flatray asked, sparring for time.

"Drop your gun. If you don't we'll riddle you both."

West spoke to Jack promptly. "Do as he says. It's Mac