And from a farther flat topped ridge a group of Indians with Dutch hair-cuts and Stetson hats and moccasins (the two hall-marks of two races) watched them take the false trail, and looked at one another and grinned sourly.
The false trail forked, showing that the six had separated into two parties of three riders, each aiming to pass--so the hoofprints would lead one to believe--around the two ends of a lone hill that sat squarely down on the mesa like a stone treasure chest dropped there by the gods when the world was young.
The Happy Family drew rein and eyed the parting of the ways dubiously.
"Wonder what they did that for ?" Andy Green grumbled, mopping his red face irritatedly.

"We've got trouble enough without having them split up on us." "From the looks, I should say we're overhauling the bunch," Luck hazarded.

"They maybe met on the other side of this butte somewhere.
And the tracks were made early this morning, I should say.

How about it, Applehead ?" "Well, they look fresher 'n what we bin follerin' before," Applehead admitted.

"But I don't like this here move uh theirn, and I'm tellin' yuh so.