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Duffield, J. W.

"Bert Wilson in the Rockies"

"
They gathered eagerly about him to learn the details, and Bert strained
his ears to catch the fragments of conversation that floated up to him.
He could detect the name of "Melton" and "Pedro" as often recurring, but
to his intense disappointment could get no coherent idea of the felony
the rustlers had in view. Had he done so, his quest would have ended then
and there. It would then be simply a matter of laying an ambush at the
given time and place, into which the rascals would walk blindly, and from
which there would be no escape. But when at last the conference was over,
he was no wiser than before, except that his suspicions as to the
half-breed had become a certainty.
The afternoon was well along now, and the captain, casting a glance at
the sun, rose hastily to his feet.
"Come along," he growled. "We can do our chinning later on. We'll have
all we can do now to get to camp before dark."
"Before dark." Bert looked at his watch. It was nearly six o'clock. It
would not be fully dark until eight. That meant that the rendezvous of
the gang was within two hours' ride.


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