XVIII. One Hiss Too Many
XIX. Surrounding the Enemy
XX. Learning Some Fancy Shots
XXI. A Hole in the Mountain
XXII. The Cave of the Bandits
XXIII. In a Perilous Position
XXIV. Conclusion




CHAPTER I

EXCITEMENT ON THE WEST FORK


Leaving the main branch of Delaware Creek, a broad, sluggish stream that
slowly made its way toward the muddy Pecos River, a party of horsemen
turned up the west branch.

Horses and men alike were wearied, dusty, perspiring and sleepy under
the glare of a midsummer Texas sun. Little had been said for some
time. None felt like talking. For hours they had been working south
by west, urged on by the green of the foliage that they could see a
short distance ahead. At least it had seemed a short distance for the
last five hours, but the green trees now appeared to be just as far
away as when the party had first sighted them early in the morning.

At the head of the line rode a grizzled, stern-faced man, sitting on
his pony very stiff and erect. Just behind him was a young man,