But now the hoof beats which had attracted his attention were coming nearer. The floor of the canyon was so strewn with Titanic rock masses, though, that it was impossible to see more than a few yards in either direction.
“Wonder if that ain’t thet Ramon and his bunch come ter look at ther remains?” thought Pete. “Guess I’ll be on the safe side and jes’ duck a ’hind this yar rock till I make sure.”
So saying, he slipped between two boulders into a small natural cave in which he felt he would be secure from observation, and yet be able to see what was going forward. He had not long to wait. Suddenly, around the corner of one of the huge rock piles, there swung a troop of gaily caparisoned riders; Mexicans, beyond a doubt. Their serapes streamed out behind them in the wind like gaudy streamers.
“Now, what bunch of pesky greasers is this yar?” Pete was beginning to himself, when suddenly he broke off in amazement:
“Jack Merrill’s among ’em, by ginger. He’s a prisoner! No, he ain’t! He’s talking ter that chap in front with ther silver-mounted rifle. Bob cats! I have it now. It’s a troop of rurales, and they’re on the trail of Ramon!
Giving vent to the long-drawn cow-puncher yell, Coyote Pete dashed from his place of concealment, and a more astonished lad than Jack Merrill I can assure you, you never saw, when he perceived the old plainsman suddenly bob up out of a great rock mass in that lonely canyon.
In his excess of joy Coyote fairly flung his arms about Jack’s neck.
But scant time could be given to greetings. Explanations were in order. Exclamations of indignation and of fury ran like wildfire among the Rangers, as the old plainsman told his tale. Then Jack related how he had fared, and how they had trailed the marauders, being much delayed at times, though, by faulty tracks where the party had passed over hard ground.
“By ginger, I never noticed till now, that we are in the same canyon we came through with that outfit of Ramon’s late yesterday!” exclaimed Pete. “Gloomy place, ain’t it? And it seemed pretty glum to me last night, I can tell you.”
He gazed at the cliff and shuddered a little. He could not help it.
“Say, Jack, hez my hair turned white?” he asked suddenly.
“Arter what I went through, I hearn tell of such things. Me for a nice snug place in a stampede, or the front rank in a shooting scrape arter this. I’ve no more use for exciting sports.”