"
They advanced cautiously as far as the bridge, but at that point
Brennan turned his pony's head southward, and spurred the reluctant
animal up the steep bank. Without question Westcott followed, and the
two horses broke into a trot as soon as they attained the more level
land beyond. They were slightly above the town now, and could gaze
back at the glittering lights in the valley below. The sound of men's
voices failed to reach them over the soft pounding of the ponies' hoofs
on the prairie sod, but suddenly the distant crackling of a half dozen
shots pierced the silence, and their eyes caught the sparkle of the
discharges, winking like fireflies in the night. Before they could
draw up their mounts, the fusillade had ended, and all beneath them was
unbroken gloom.
"Must be rushing the rock," commented Westcott.
"More likely saw something and blazed away at it, just as they did at
that log," and Brennan laughed. "Anyhow they haven't discovered we
have vanished yet. With an hour more we'll be where trails are
unknown."
"In the desert?"
"That is the only safe hiding place around here.
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