It was a shallow bowl, deep enough to afford shelter and to hide the sight of the fire, but it was a place commanding all the country surrounding. An easy place to defend, an easy place to escape from, a good hiding-place because a rider traveling either side of this ridge would not suspect there was a depression atop it capable of holding a dozen men and their horses. His guards were numerous, and they stayed awake. One of them had spotted Ray Warren in early afternoon and had watched him try four different ridges in his attempt to find the camp. When dark came, the guard stepped out, hunted Warren down, and, at the point of a gun, asked him his business. Warren told him, and was taken back to camp. He left his horse outside the circle of firelight and picked his way through the lounging Excelsior crew to the fire, over which Bonsell was squatting. Bonsell looked up at his approach and, seeing him, smiled. He knew Warren well enough to distrust him, simply because the man was utterly loyal to Harvey Buckner.
