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THE UP TRAIL
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some distance from Mesa, was that Hopi Jim knew a short cut through the range, via what he termed the upper trail, by which they hoped to be able to head the fugitives off before they could gain the desert on the far side of the hills.

And the trail proved rough, narrow, and tortuous, winding along the ridge-pole of an unholy wilderness. Only at long intervals did they draw rein, to permit Hopi Jim to make reconnaissance of the lower trail that threaded the valley on the far side of the ridge-pole.

Toward noon he returned in haste from the last of these surveys, and threw himself upon his horse with the advice:

"We've headed 'em! Can make it now if we ride like all get-out!"

For half an hour more they pushed on at their best speed, and at length drew rein at a point where the trail crossed the ridge and widened out upon a long, broad ledge that overhung the valley of the lower trail, with a clear drop to the latter from the brink of a good two hundred feet.

One hasty look into the valley evoked a grunt of satisfaction from Hopi Jim.

"Just in time," he asseverated. "There they come! Ten minutes more …"

His smile answered Marrophat's with unspeakably cruel significance.