But water was needed as well as cover. At the end of several days they found a place that suited them. Others had been there before. There was even a brush corral that some rustling gang had built years past. Little Bill looked the ground over carefully and from such sign as he could discover, decided that a month or more had passed since anyone had camped at this hidden spring. Reassured that they were safe for the time being, they went into camp. There was some game in the brush, but to fire a gun was to announce their presence not only to any prowling marshal but to other wanted men like themselves, and that might mean the Sontags, for they had no way of knowing how close they were to Smoke and his long riders. So their guns were silent. Link took Little Bill to task over it. “I didn’t know we was walkin’ wide of Smoke,” he said. “I figgered the sooner we met up with ’em the better we’d like it.” “We’ll meet up with ’em, sure enough,” Bill answered, “but I don’t aim to give ’em a chance to jump us.
