"He's down in some gulch," observed Meshackatee sagely, "probably legging it to take the news to Isham. Two white men, one on foot; and two horses, one drove ahead; and a dog--well, that will be Meshackatee. And the man on foot--the chances are good that Isham will guess it's you. Well, watch along Turkey Creek and if you see any one crossing, wake me up and we'll make a quick move." Hall watched and as the day wore on towards evening he saw what Meshackatee had feared. Six horsemen in single file came trotting down the creek, half-hidden behind the tall brush; but when Meshackatee came the enemy had vanished again and the trails were bare--too bare. "We'll move," stated Meshackatee, "as soon as it's dark; and if you're game, I am--we'll ride across country and try to come out at the Rock House. Might as well head for the place we're going to, even if I don't know the way none too well." "All right," agreed Hall, "and if we find cover in time I'll slip down and spy on the house." "Bad business," grumbled Meshackatee, "don't like this a little bit. Them cowboys are out for our hair." They remained at the lookout until it was dark and then, packing swiftly, struck out to the west, following cow-trails clear to the creek. There they watered their horses and started up the other side; but the canyon which they ascended boxed up near the summit and they had to return to the creek. Meshackatee's plans had gone awry, putting him in a very bad humor; but after thinking it over he moved up a side canyon and took shelter on a bench above the stream. Here they tied out their horses in a narrow cove which was surrounded on three sides by wooded slopes; and then, with his dog sleeping against his back, Meshackatee sprawled out and went to sleep. But the failure of their plans had left McIvor uneasy--he did not approve of this camp above the trail; and as morning approached he rose up silently and felt his way down to the stream. This was the hour that he dreaded, just before the break of day, and he crept along the ground regardless of the dew which weighed down the heavy grass. There had been noises in the night and 'Pache had growled repeatedly, some wild cattle had jumped suddenly and fled; and as he drew near the water he noticed that the grass had been trampled on the opposite side of the stream. He slipped down closer, hardly stirring a twig as he moved, and the first flush of dawn showed men's tracks in the sand--and the dew had been knocked from the grass! He lay silent, his heart thumping; there was a stir across the creek, a stir and the hunch of a head. That was enough--he glided away like a rattlesnake, and Meshackatee woke up with a jump. They were surrounded--he knew that from the look in Hall's eyes--and, catching up his gun from the fold of his blanket, he rolled over behind a big rock.