“I take it they’ll all go back to Mexico, Honanta,” said Sid. “They saw nothing of Red Mesa, and I think we’ve seen the last of _them_.” Honanta shrugged his shoulders: “My Hano! We must follow on!” he urged. The Apaches now dismounted and began tracking. But, once in the rocks, Hano had been too keen even for them. Not a further trace could be found. He might have gone anywhere, and wider and wider circles came across not a single footprint. “Gee! I wish we’d brought Ruler!” exclaimed Sid, vexedly. “Scotty has him to-day, trying to track Vasquez. While that scoundrel is at large nothing is safe.” Honanta seemed relieved. “My son is safe!” he declared. “He’ll reach Tule Tanks where there is water at this time of the year. Fear not! He will return some day. We go back to Red Mesa and keep watch.” It was evening before they rode up that vast sandy valley headed by the lava apron which flowed out of Red Mesa standing high on the mountain like some medieval cathedral. Up on its brink Sid noted a brush shade with a figure lying under it. A hand rose and waved down to them as they dismounted and tethered the horses where there was feed. “Good old John--he’s had his own way!” laughed Sid. “On the job again! Must be getting better, all right. Those are wonderful herbs of yours, chief!” He found that Scotty had already returned with Ruler. The intercourse between the two chums was now strained and lacked their usual cordial affection, but Sid learned that the dog had been able to track “that Vasquez,” as Big John called him, over the mountain and out into the Pass, where he had captured a stray horse and ridden off southwards. “That means he’ll spend the night at Papago Tanks,” concluded Scotty. “If we get up a party to go there to-night, we’ll take him.” “I doubt it,” retorted Sid. “To-night’s the very night he’ll attempt something against us, don’t you worry! We’ve got to stay here, on guard, and keep a sharp lookout on the cave mouth.” “Why?” asked Scotty, mystified at Sid’s words. “The fellow brought dynamite, sure as we stand here, Scotty. He could lock us _all_ up in Red Mesa if he could shatter our cave with a stick of it. That’s the only entrance, and the walls are unscalable.” Scotty looked surprised. “By George, that’s so!” he exclaimed at length, nervously. He fell silent, and Sid could see that his engineer’s mind was already at work planning some scheme to build a way out in case Vasquez should succeed. They both went over to where Big John lay with Blaze beside him. The big cowman’s eyes were bright, and he greeted them cheerily. “You-all give this old bird plenty of corn pone and Montana chicken (bacon), an’ he’ll surprise ye, boys!” he chirped. “Ain’t no one goin’ to pull no Enchanted Mesa stuff on us while the old meat gun’s handy!” He reached down his hand to where the .35 lay on the rock beside him. “This-yer’s a good job! Pretty soft! Hed a swell time persuadin’ them Injuns to fix me up hyar, though.”