We heard a little of what he told his comrades, and
gathered that Jim Williams had met Stockton and had asked questions hard to
answer. Dick flashed me a significant look, which was as much as to say
that Jim was growing suspicious. Bud had brought a store of whiskey, and
his companions now kept closer company with him than ever before. But from
appearances they did not get all they wanted.
"We've got to move this here camp," said Bud.
Bud and Bill and Herky walked off down the gorge. Perhaps they really went
to find another place for the camp, for the present spot was certainly a
kind of trap. But from the looks of Greaser I guessed that they were
leaving him to keep guard while they went off to drink by themselves.
Greaser muttered and snarled. As the moments passed his face grew sullen.
All at once he came toward me. He bound my hands and my feet. Dick was
already securely tied, but Greaser put another lasso on him. Then he
slouched down the gorge. His high-peaked Mexican sombrero bobbed above the
rocks, then disappeared.
"Ken, now's the chance," said Dick, low and quick. "If you can only work
loose! There's your rifle and mine, too. We could hold this fort for a
month."
"What can I do?" I asked, straining on my ropes.
"You're not fast to the rock, as I am.
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