Barlow's plans were not at Kendric's disposal; the sailor might be
counting on the vessel and he might not. At any rate he and Betty
could slip down the gulf in it and either take ship at La Paz, sending
it back up the gulf then, or steer on to San Diego. Of course he would
seek to get in touch with Barlow; he could send a message of some sort.
But after all Barlow had taken the game into his own hands and had said
that it was now each man for himself.
"We can make the trip during the night, if we can make the get-away,"
he told her. "We'll have to take a roundabout way at first, edging the
valley along the foothills on this side until we're well past the ranch
house, then cut across the shortest way and pick up the trail on the
other side. We can take enough water in our milk tins to last us,
especially since we're traveling in the cool."
"And if," suggested Betty, "the _Half Moon_ isn't there? Or if Zoraida
has set some of her men to watch for us there?"
Naturally he had thought of that. If they came to the gulf and a new
problem of this sort offered itself, then it would be time to consider
it.
"We'll just hope for the best," he answered, "and try to be ready for
what comes."
Carefully they conserved each tiny fragment of food, using the flour
sack for cupboard. They went cautiously to the entrance of their
hiding place and for a long time crouched behind the bushes, watching
the canon sides, seeking for a sign of Rios as they fancied Rios was
seeking them.
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