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Show 83 Bixby, glowering at the heavyset man beside him, motioned with the gun barrel to the trees at the lower end of the meadow. "Let's try back there again," he said. "Look, they're only a couple of brat kids," Rollins said in exasperation. "They can't get far with that gold-I can hardly carry it myself." "Then where are they, Rollo?" Bixby said with ice in his voice. "Anyone dumb enough to go off and leave that bag. . . ." He shook his head grimly. 'You just better pray we find them, friend. And that they've still got the gold." Rollins bit his lip and wiped his forehead. It was the unluckiest thing that had ever happened to him. "Aw, they can't be far. We'll find 'em." The pilot, a square-faced man with a pug nose, shook his head and glanced at his watch. "It better be quick. We can't stay up here all day. You two are awfully hot, you know. And I gotta get this heap back to the airfield tonight." "Keep circling the edge of the trees," Bixby ordered. When the boys trotted toward the spot where they had slept the night before, Cap motioned to the tree where the burro had been. "Hey Josh," he gasped, his breath nearly gone, "you. . . you want. . . to stop to see . . . if you can find a monster in there?" Josh shot him a wounded glance and trotted on. It was no time for foolish jokes. Anyway, he was too tired to be embarrassed now. They had to get down the ledges into the comparative safety of the canyon below where there was cover and little room for the helicopter |