[Illustration: BEDDED IN THE SOFT EARTH UNDERNEATH LAY THE SLIM BUCKSKIN
SACKS.
_Page 159._]
"Here"--Mac handed me his carbine--"you stay with the yellow temptation.
From now on we'll have to keep a close eye on this stuff, and likewise
have our guns handy. I'll make those fellows pack up and bring the
horses here. Then we'll load this and pull for Walsh."
His first move was to saddle his black horse and my dun. These he led to
the fire, and thereafter stood a little to one side, placidly consuming
a cigarette while the other two packed the camp-outfit and saddled their
own mounts. Then they trailed across the flat toward me, MacRae blandly
bringing up the rear. He wasn't taking any chances.
Half an hour later, with the sacks of gold securely lashed on the
_aparejos_ of the pack-horse, we climbed out of Writing-Stone bottom and
swung away over the silent tablelands.
With Writing-on-the-Stone scarcely three miles behind, the
long-abandoned burrow of a badger betrayed us into the hands of the
enemy. (What a power for thwarting the plans of men little things
sometimes exercise!) We had contrived that Gregory should lead the
pack-horse, which gave MacRae and me both hands to use in case of a
hostile demonstration; that there would be such, neither of us doubted
from the moment those two laid eyes on the buckskin sacks.
Pages:
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127