“They’re headin’ for that yellow pass,” said Ladd, pointing to a break in the eastern end of the escarpment.  “When they get out of sight we’ll rustle.  I’m thinkin’ that waterhole the Yaqui spoke of lays in the pass.”

The rangers traveled swiftly over the remaining miles of level desert leading to the ascent of the escarpment.  When they achieved the gateway of the pass the sun was low in the west.  Dwarfed mesquite and greasewood appeared among the rocks.  Ladd gave the word to tie up horses and go forward on foot.

The narrow neck of the pass opened and descended into a valley half a mile wide, perhaps twice that in length.  It had apparently unscalable slopes of weathered rock leading up to beetling walls.  With floor bare and hard and white, except for a patch of green mesquite near the far end it was a lurid and desolate spot, the barren bottom of a desert bowl.

“Keep down, boys” said Ladd.  “There’s the waterhole an’ hosses have sharp eyes.  Shore the Yaqui figgered this place.  I never seen its like for a trap.”

Both white and black horses showed against the green, and a thin curling column of blue smoke rose lazily from amid the mesquites.

“I reckon we’d better wait till dark, or mebbe daylight,” said Jim Lash.

“Let me figger some.  Dick, what do you make of the outlet to this hole?  Looks rough to me.”

With his glass Gale studied the narrow construction of walls and roughened rising floor.

“Laddy, it’s harder to get out at that end than here,” he replied.

“Shore that’s hard enough.  Let me have a look....Well, boys, it don’t take no figgerin’ for this job.  Jim, I’ll want you at the other end blockin’ the pass when we’re ready to start.”

“When’ll that be?” inquired Jim.

“Soon as it’s light enough in the mornin’.  That Greaser outfit will hang till to-morrow.  There’s no sure water ahead for two days, you remember.”

“I reckon I can slip through to the other end after dark,” said Lash, thoughtfully.  “It might get me in bad to go round.”

The rangers stole back from the vantage point and returned to their horses, which they untied and left farther round among broken sections of cliff.  For the horses it was a dry, hungry camp, but the rangers built a fire and had their short though strengthening meal.

The location was high, and through a break in the jumble of rocks the great colored void of desert could be seen rolling away endlessly to the west.  The sun set, and after it had gone down the golden tips of mountains dulled, their lower shadows creeping upward.

Jim Lash rolled in his saddle blanket, his feet near the fire, and went to sleep.  Ladd told Gale to do likewise while he kept the fire up and waited until it was late enough for Jim to undertake circling round the raiders.  When Gale awakened the night was dark, cold, windy.  The stars shone with white brilliance.  Jim was up saddling his horse, and Ladd was talking low.  When Gale rose to accompany them both rangers said he need not go.  But Gale wanted to go because that was the thing Ladd or Jim would have done.