They threaded the forest aisles without hesitation, crossed a
deep ravine where the man paused to drink, and began to clamber the
precipitous and rocky sides of Baldy.
"That'll do for that!" growled Bob suddenly.
The man looked around as though for information.
"You needn't go so fast. Keep about three feet in front of me. And when
we strike your gang, you keep close to me. _Sabe_?"
"I'm alone," expostulated the man.
Nevertheless he slackened pace.
After five minutes' climb they entered a narrow ravine gashed almost
perpendicularly in the side of the mountain. At this point, however, it
flattened for perhaps fifty paces, so that there existed a tiny
foothold. It was concealed from every point, and nevertheless, directly
to the west, Bob, pausing for breath, looked out over California
slumbering in the moon. On this ledge flowed a tiny stream, and over it
grew a score of cedar and fir trees. A fire smouldered near an open
camp. On this the man tossed a handful of pitch pine. Immediately the
flames started up.
"Here we are!" he remarked aloud.
"Yes, I see we are," replied Bob, looking suspiciously about him, "but
what does all this mean?"
"I couldn't get to talk with you no other way, could I?" said the man in
tones of complaint; "I sure tried hard enough! But you and your pardner
stick closer than brothers.
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