Part 12 (2/2)

The boys continued their pursuit throughout the morning. Around noontime, Big Al's tracks left the well-defined path and disappeared upward among the higher rocks and brush.

Joe groaned at the sight. ”Good grief! How can we tackle that kind of ground when our horses are exhausted already?”

Frank looked thoughtful as they slouched in their saddles and studied the terrain. ”Maybe there's no need to, Joe. I have a hunch this could be a dodge to throw us off.”

”You could be right,” Joe said, brightening. ”If Big Al's heading for Windy Peak, he'll probably have to come back to the trail eventually.”

After talking the matter over, the Hardys decided to halt for lunch and a rest. Two hours later, feeling refreshed, they hit the trail again.

It was late in the afternoon when the boys sighted the outlaw's tracks once more, leading from the slope back down to the trail.

”Your hunch paid off, Frank!” Joe exclaimed. ”These tracks look pretty fresh, tool”

Encouraged, the boys pressed forward with new energy. A mile farther on, the trail forked. One branch struck sharply upward. The other followed a more winding course along the curve of the mountainside.

To their left stretched a shallow box canyon.

Frank and Joe took the lower trail, since the prints showed that Big Al had gone that way. Gradually the path became little more than a rocky ledge, with frequent sharp turns and a sheer drop-off along the outer edge. The Hardys rode single file, with Joe in the lead.

Suddenly a pebble clattered down from a rock jutting out just above their heads. Frank shot a quick glance upward. ”Look out, Joe!” he yelled.

A rope with a wide circling noose was snaking down toward his brother's head!

Frank's warning came an instant too late. The noose settled over Joe's shoulders and jerked tight, nearly yanking him from the saddle.

Frank spurred forward, white with terror. Someone hidden on the ledge above them was trying to drop Joe over the precipice! Frank managed to grab the taut rope just in time. Almost at the same instant, the unseen enemy let go of it. Joe would have gone over the brink, but Frank's quick jerk on the rope pulled his brother back from the edge, and Joe dropped heavily onto the trail. Unhurt, he struggled to his feet and began extricating himself from the noose. In moments he was free.

”There goes the rat!” Frank yelled as a figure burst from the ledge above and scrambled rapidly along the slope.

Big Al!

Instantly Joe was back in the saddle. The Hardys spurred forward in hot pursuit. The outlaw's course was roughly parallel to the trail. Suddenly Big Al checked his stride long enough to send a large rock rumbling down the slope.

”Hold it, Frank!” Joe warned.

Both boys yanked their horses to a rearing, whinnying halt in the nick of time! A split second later the rock crashed onto the trail just ahead, rolled to the edge, and went over.

The animals snorted with fear and stood trembling. Frank and Joe barely managed to spur them into motion again. Big Al was lost to view behind a clump of brush and jagged outcropping.

The trail ahead bent sharply around a projecting shoulder of the mountainside. Joe caught a quick glimpse of Big Al outlined against the sky as he rounded the slope. Then he disappeared.

The boys slowed their mounts to negotiate the dangerous hairpin curve of the ledge. As they came around to the opposite side of the shoulder, Joe reined in and signaled Frank to halt. Ahead stood Big Al's riderless horse. The Hardys dismounted to scout the situation.

”Where has he gone?” Frank asked tensely.

”Search me,” Joe replied, looking around.

Just past the outlaw's horse the trail petered out and the terrain sloped upward in a jumble of giant rocks.

Beyond them a huge boulder stood poised straight up like a pinnacle.

”He must be holed up among those rocks,” Frank said. ”Probably waiting for us!”

He had hardly finished speaking when Joe clutched his brother's arm and pointed. ”Look! There he is!”

Big Al had suddenly appeared, clawing his way to the very top of the jutting boulder!

”He's trapped!” Frank cried out triumphantly. ”Let's get him!”

CHAPTER XVI.

Cliff Hideaway ”YOU'LL never take me alive!” screamed Big Al.

He had reached the top of the huge boulder and now stood waving his arms against the leaden sky. The outlaw was jumping around as though half-crazed.

”Try to get me!” he challenged.

As Frank and Joe sped into the jumble of rocks, they lost sight of their quarry momentarily. They could hear Big Al still yelling, then suddenly there was silence.

”Wonder what happened?” Joe panted. ”Did-”

He was interrupted by a long-drawn-out scream which gradually trailed off. Then there was silence.

Das.h.i.+ng from the rocks, the boys came around a corner. Before them was the huge boulder.

”He's gone!” Joe panted.

”But where?”

There was no place for Big Al to have run except down the rocky trail on which the boys had been.

”He must have jumped over the edge!” Joe yelled. The Hardys ran to it. They could see most of the canyon floor below them. There was no sign of a body.

”He must have gone down!” Frank said, puzzled. ”But where is he?”

The boys looked closely again in the waning light. There was no one in sight.

”I wonder-” Joe said slowly. ”Even if Big Al did go over the side, he may have known a safe way to slide to the bottom, and there might be some hiding place-”

Frank agreed. ”Big Al's pretty tricky. He could have figured out some way to escape.”

As the light failed, the brothers strained their eyes to peer into the darkness, but could detect no niche, crevice, or cave in which to hide.

”Well,” Frank murmured at last, ”there isn't much we can do tonight. I sure hate to think Big Al is roaming around here loose.”

<script>