CHAPTER IV.
Two days later, about the middle of the forenoon, Duane dragged the two horses up the last ascent of an exceedingly rough trail and found himself on top of the Rim Rock, with a beautiful green valley at his feet, the yellow, sluggish Rio Grande shining in the sun, and the great, wild, mountainous barren of Mexico stretching to the south.
Duane had not fallen in with any travelers.

He had taken the likeliest-looking trail he had come across.

Where it had led him he had not the slightest idea, except that here was the river, and probably the inclosed valley was the retreat of some famous outlaw.
No wonder outlaws were safe in that wild refuge! Duane had spent the last two days climbing the roughest and most difficult trail he had ever seen.

From the looks of the descent he imagined the worst part of his travel was yet to come.

Not improbably it was two thousand feet down to the river.