. . . everything save the original purpose of the trip. He had had enough of mixing with others’ affairs!

He gained the shore without getting more than his feet wet and crossed the tide-washed stretch of sand to the natural levee. Looking back, he saw King tinkering with the motors, and was seriously inclined to return to the Rambler. But Captain Joe was urging him on with all the arguments known to a white bulldog, so he crossed the string of sandy barrier and set out for the spur which ran down from the foothills.

There was no one in sight, either up or down the river, and his idea was that the Mexicans had deserted the position opposite the old anchorage. Either that, or they were in hiding ahead, waiting to seize him.

Finally Captain Joe deserted him, wandered off unobserved into one of the wrinkles in the hills. He could not understand this at all, for the dog should have continued to lead the way to the source of trouble he had retu. . . Read More