It seemed to the boys that the distance between the summit where they
stood and the plain below might, even at the slow pace at which the
outlaws were moving, be made by nightfall. The eastern slope was not
so rough and broken as that on the west. In fact, the outlaws were
now traveling down a declivity so clear of cliffs and breaks that the
boys did not dare follow them. To be observed by the renegade at that
time might prove fatal to the hope of the immediate rescue of Fremont,
as the outlaws would then be on their guard.
"We've either got to wait until night, or wind down through the wild
places off to the south," Nestor said, after looking over the locality
for a time.
"We just can't wait until night," Jimmie said. "There's no knowing
what treatment Fremont will receive at their hands before that time."
"We may actually gain time by waiting," Nestor advised. "We may be
obliged to travel scores of miles around precipices and canons if we
take to the rocks."
Suppose we wait, then," Frank said. "We can go over into the bumps
to the south and get out of the sunlight, then. I'm about roasted.
There may be a cave over in that direction, or a ruined temple."
"Or a Turkish bath, or a lobster palace," grinned Jimmie. "We might
find a pie-counter over there, too," he added, with a poke at Frank.
"There are no ruined temples in the State of Chihuahua," declared
Peter Fenton, glad of an opportunity of unloading his knowledge of
the country, "at least, I have never heard of any being here.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143