bin talkin' about the gel on Ghost Mountain an' she's got a notion Hollister will throw her over. They chucked her out of Vasquez' when she began to make a fuss. She was ready to spit fire w'en she met up with me. I figgered she'd had a row with him an' I got it out of her.
"They're goin' up there tonight after they grub up. I hit the breeze."
"We'll beat them to it, Red. Give them a surprise party. What did you learn about the way in?"
"Only that it's masked by a waterfall. There's a little crick runs out of a box canyon. I know whereabouts it is. The water falls plumb out of the rock. Green growth both sides of the fall. You'd never think of lookin' back of it. Live stream, winter an' summer. We can find it. "
"We'll snatch a cold snack and start right away, Red. We've got to get there first. If they've been drinking ...?"
Jackson nodded solemnly.
"It's liable to be a two-gun expedition," he said. "I'll git yore mare an' saddle up my roan. He's faster than the pinto, ennyway. You rustle the grub. Oh, Lord," he groaned.
"What's the matter?"
Jackson had stooped in front of Quong, gathering up the four plump, picked chickens in a pan.
"How was you goin' to serve them, Quong?"
"Fricasseed, with cream gravy." There seemed to be the merest hint of a twinkle in Quong's eyes. He must have overheard some of the talk between Sheridan and Jackson.
