Directly in the way of the proverbial crow's flight lay King's Highway, which--if I got through--would put me at the ranch the first day, and back at camp the second; and I rather guessed that would surprise our worthy foreman not a little.

I didn't see why it couldn't be done; surely old King wouldn't murder a man just for riding through that pass--that would be bloody-minded indeed! And if I failed--why, I could go around, and no one would be wise to the fact that I had tried it.

I headed straight for the pass, which yawned invitingly, with two bare peaks for the jaws, not over six miles away.
It was against orders, for Perry Potter had given the boys to understand that they were not to go that way, and that they were to leave King and his stronghold strictly alone; but I didn't worry about that.

When I was fairly in the mouth of the pass, I got down and looked to the cinch, and then rode boldly forward, like a soldier riding up to the cannon's mouth with a smile on his face.

Oh, I wasted plenty of admiration on one Ellis Carleton about that time, and rehearsed the bold, biting speech I meant to deliver at old King's very door.
So far it was easy sailing.