Bud halted Sunfish and looked again to make sure, while Eddie beckoned frantically.
They went on undisturbed--the Catrockers kept no dogs.
They passed a couple of corrals, rode over springy sod where Bud dimly discerned hay stubble.

Eddie let down a set of bars, replaced them carefully, and they crossed another meadow.

It struck Bud that the Catrockers were fairly well entrenched in their canyon, with plenty of horse feed at least.
They followed a twisting trail along the canyon's wall, rode into another pit of darkness, came out into a sandy stretch that seemed hazily familiar to Bud.

They crossed this, dove into the bushes following a dim trail, and in ten minutes Eddie's horse backed suddenly against Sunfish's nose.

Bud stood in his stirrups, reins held firmly in his left hand, and in his right his six-shooter with the hammer lifted, ready to snap down.
A tall figure stepped away from the peaked rocks and paused at Bud's side.
"I been waiting for Marian," he said bluntly.