They found indications of Mexicali Joe's labors, rock ledges at which he had chipped and hammered, prospect holes lower on the steep slope. And Cliff Shipton acknowledged that "the signs were all right." But they did not find the gold and they did not find anything to show that Joe or another had worked here recently. "All this work," said Shipton, staring and frowning, "was done a year ago." "He'd be crafty enough," muttered Gallup, "to hide his real signs. We got to look around every clump of brush and in every gully where maybe he's covered things up.... You're sure," and he whipped about upon Lynette, "that you got straight all he said?" "I'm sure," said Lynette. And she was afraid that the men would hear the beating of her heart. "I am going up to the top of the cliffs again and see what I can see," she said. "If there's gold anywhere it's down here," said Shipton. "There's nothing on the top." "Just the same I'm going!" "Where the horses are?" jeered Taggart. "By God, if you have...." "If you think I am trying to run away you can follow and watch me. I am going!" She turned. Deveril was watching her with keen, shrewd eyes. Taggart took a quick stride toward her, his hand lifted to drag her back. Deveril stepped before him, saying coolly: "I'll go up with her, Taggart. And I guess you know how I stand on this, don't you?" "All right," conceded the sheriff. "Only keep your eye peeled. I'm getting leery." It was a long climb to the cliff tops and neither Lynette nor Deveril at her heels spoke during the climb. They were silent when at last they stood side by side near the tethered horses. Deveril's eyes were upon her pale face; her own eyes ran swiftly, eagerly across the deep cañon to the wooded lands beyond. She prayed with the fervor of growing despair for the sight of a certain young blond giant of a man racing headlong to her relief. "Well?" said Deveril presently in a tone so strange, so vibrant with suppressed emotion that he made her start and drew her wondering eyes swiftly. "What are you looking for now?" "Why do you talk like that ... what is the matter?" His bitter laughter set her nerves quivering. "Is the gold here, Lynette? Or is it some miles away, with Bruce Standing already sinking his claws into it, Standing style?" Again her eyes left him, returning across the gorge to the farther wooded lands. Over there was a road, the road into which she and Babe Deveril had turned briefly that night, a thousand years ago, when they had fled from Big Pine in the dark; a road which led to Bruce Standing's headquarters. From the top of the cliffs she caught a glimpse of the road, winding among the trees; her eyes were fixedly upon it; her lips were moving softly, though the words were not for Babe Deveril's ears. "Lynette," he said in that strangely tense and quiet voice, "if you have been fool enough to try to put something over on this crowd.... Can't you guess how you'd fare in Jim Taggart's hands?"