Part 19 (2/2)

When Jo saw the gulch ahead, he decided that discretion was the better part of valor as he did not know his mount well enough to risk the leap, so he galloped a few hundred feet below, where the gulch narrowed and then he took the jump nicely, and scampered after the other two riders who were quite a way ahead.

Jim purposely held Caliente in check, keeping a hundred yards in the rear of the Spaniard. Ahead a few miles, there was a perfect sea of yellow where the tall mustard covered the plain for a great distance.

Into this they charged full tilt, the mustard reaching as high as their heads.

There was a swish of its blossoms in their faces as the powerful horses charged into it and in spite of their strength they began to tire after going some distance.

”Where is Jo?” inquired Jim suddenly after they had slowed down, ”I don't see a sign of him.” And he rose in his stirrups looking over the level lake of mustard.

”h.e.l.lo, Jo,” he yelled at the top of his voice. No answer came. Could he be drowned in this lake? There was not a motion to indicate his whereabouts, no waving of the yellow tops.

”It is very strange,” said the Spaniard. ”Did he cross the gully all right?”

”Yes, I saw him take the jump below us a ways.” Then Jim raised his revolver above his head and fired.

”That ought to fetch him,” he said. Then they listened intently.

Suddenly about a quarter of a mile ahead of them they saw a sombrero rise like a gray mushroom above the yellow surface of the mustard, and Jo's voice came back to them.

They both gave their horses the rein, this time Jim did nothing to hold Caliente back, and with their powerful speed the two great horses tore forward, on even terms until in the last hundred yards Caliente forged ahead by half a length.

”Hold on boys,” yelled Jo in warning. There was Jo sitting quietly on his horse.

”That's how you beat us,” exclaimed Jim, pointing to a cow trail running diagonally through the growth of mustard.

”Yes,” laughed Jo, ”I struck it further down after I jumped the gully.

Otherwise you fellows would have lost me.”

”Good work, Jo,” said Jim. ”Now we will have it easier going.”

So in single file they galloped along the path, until they found themselves by noon, at the foot of a spur of mountains that extended from the main coast range to the ocean. Jim regarded this barrier in their way with a practised eye.

”This will slow us down, Senor,” he said. ”It looks like a pa.s.s below there, about two miles.”

”Yes,” said the Senor, ”we can get through there all right, but it is pretty rough going.”

They had to advance more slowly now, as the ground was broken into stony ravines, and there was a good deal of brush. In this kind of country Jo's horse more than held its own with the bigger animals, for he was as nimble as a goat.

”I hope we will find water, Senor,” remarked Jim. ”Our horses are pretty dry now.”

”Yes,” replied the Spaniard, ”there is a good spring at the foot of the Pa.s.s.”

They found it all right, in the entrance to the Pa.s.s, where there was a small green cove, surrounded with bushes, and on one side was a sheep herder's shanty. Jo investigated this immediately and found nothing in it but the charred remnants of a fire and a pair of discarded overalls.

Jim, who had himself been looking around, made a more important find.

”There has been somebody here recently,” he announced. ”Here are some tracks around the spring and not over twelve hours old.”

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