further doubt. True the scent was cold, having been left the evening before, but it was leading toward the secret camp.
Even though he did not consciously help Moran he located the trail for him. As they neared it his anxiety for closer inspection caused him to strain at the end of his leash and Moran followed. Flash held his nose low to the ground as he reached it, breathing deep of the hated scent. Moran discovered one or two faint prints on the hard packed game trail. The man had come in from a side gulch and turned upstream on the main path.
The valley was deep and gloomy. The little side streams which branched in were walled with frowning cliffs. There were a score of such, any one of which would have served as an ideal hiding place for the gang they sought. Both men knew that from now on the way was fraught with danger. While the outlaws had never molested parties who hunted here through fear of calling attention to their presence in the hills, any one of them would undoubtedly shoot on sight the first man who, either by accident or design, discovered their chosen hiding place. Moran motioned to Vermont to drop back and follow along behind.
