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The Mexicans, surprised by the suddenness of the attack, did not wait to fire many shots in return. A mad scramble for their horses was taking place and dimly Bob saw the outlines of the marauders string out at a mad gallop. “Indeed,” said Mother. “I’ll try to git ’em,” announced Jenkins. “I guess I better git the sheriff down to Las Cruces to call out a posse—”.

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But evidently Jerry had used up all the words he had on tap. After some sort of unsatisfactory[40] answer he got up and moved off in silence in the aloof way he had. Bob sat still and thought over what the other had just told him. The plan of exploring this canyon which no one else had ever been able to go through fired his imagination. He wanted to try it. It was like a giant staircase on the side which would not come against the water. It was about half finished when Bob first got there, but each day it rose steadily higher and higher. Bob examined it all. Each operation he came to fascinated him, and by using his eyes he soon grew to understand much of the method by which results were achieved. As he pondered his problem, his fingers had been playing with the loose button that had been in his pocket, and now it slipped from his hand and rolled off on the dirt floor toward the center of the room. Rather aimlessly, he reached out and groped for it. As his hand swept the floor it came in contact with a fine, floury substance. “Ashes,” was his thought. An inch or so farther and he gripped an object that he felt to be a half burned stick of wood. “John!” screamed Mother, starting up. “Oh, Johnny! my boy, my boy! Is it really you?”.