"The miserable dogs!" grated Bart. "They're ready to defy me now and carry out their treacherous plans."
A tall man, with a black mustache and imperial, stepped among the others, saying a word now and then and seeming to be their leader.
"You're the one, Texas Bland!" whispered Hodge. "You have led them into this!"
As he thought of this his fingers suddenly gripped the rifle, and he longed to lean over the bowlder before him, steady his aim, and send a bullet through Texas Bland. Bart was unaware that two men were approaching until they were close upon him. This compelled him, if he wished to escape observation, to draw back somewhat, and he did so. He did not crouch or make any great effort at hiding, for such a thing he disdained to do. He was not observed, however, although the men stopped within a short distance.
"Well, what do yer think o' this game, Dug?" said one of them, who was squat and sandy.
"I reckons the boss has it all his own way, Bight," retorted the other, a leathery-faced chap with tobacco-stained beard.
"The boss!" exclaimed Bight. "Mebbe you tells me who is the boss?"
"Why, Bland, of course," said Dug. "He is the boss."
"Mebbe he is, and then--mebbe again," returned the sandy one.
"Sartin; but I reckons he takes his orders from some one else."
"Now," he said, "he furnished plenty o' this. My neck is getting dry. How is yourn, Dug?"
"Ready to squeak," returned Dug, grasping the bottle his comrade extended.
When they had lowered its contents until very little was left, Bight observed:
"I s'pose Bland he's going to chaw up this yere chap, Hodge?"
"Sure thing," nodded Dug. "Pretty soon he calls Hodge down yere on a pretense o' business or something, and then he kicks up a fuss with him. He has it all fixed for several of the boys to plug him as soon as the fuss starts. That settles his hash."
"I wonder how he gits onter it that anything's up?" questioned Dug. "Mebbe that sneak, Colvin, tells him."
"Mebbe so," nodded Bight. "Anyhow, nobody trusts Colvin none, and I opines he'd been polished off here ef he'd stayed."
"And he'll sartin never git very fur," declared Dug. "Them boys arter him will sure run him down and make buzzard bait o' him."
Hearing this, Hodge knew for the first time that there were men in pursuit of Colvin, his messenger, who had slipped out of the valley the previous night. Colvin had sworn, if he lived, to carry the message for Frank to the nearest telegraph station and send it. But he was pursued by ruffians who meant to slay him. It was doubtful if he reached a telegraph office. If he failed, of course Merriwell would remain uninformed as to the situation in the Enchanted Valley and would not hurry about returning there.