out the gang that infests that castle on the cliff."

"Well, the old clam can keep his information," remarked Jim. "I propose
to find out for myself what these rascals are up to. That's the only
way."

"You are right there, Jim," replied Berwick.

"We want to go a little careful now," remarked Jim, as they came to the
mouth of Dead Man's Gulch.

Noiselessly the two comrades climbed up the dark cleft, over the
slippery rocks, until Jim came to a halt.

"That man isn't here now, John," he said in a low voice.

"They've sneaked him off while we were below," remarked the engineer.
"It behooves us to be on the lookout."

Somehow, the disappearance of the body of the dead man seemed to give a
sense of danger that was everywhere present in the darkness, as if their
enemies, though elusive, were near at hand.

"Well, here we are," exclaimed Jim, with a breath of satisfaction, as
they reached the tall fence surrounding the castle on the bluff.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE RECONNOITER

"It seems to me that we are only where we were before," said the chief
engineer, in a low voice.

"We won't be there much longer," remarked Jim, with determination;
"follow your leader, and look out for the dog; he bites."

This time James Darlington took a new tack, crawling along in the
opposite direction from the big gate and keeping well hidden. Followed
by John Berwick, he went cautiously along for a distance of a hundred
yards, and then Jim halted, and with very good reason, for he had come
to the edge of the cliff, but not exactly to the end of the fence.

There was an iron obstruction in the way, that barred them from getting
further. It was a fan-like spread of sharp iron spikes, such as you
sometimes see in these days, separating the roofs of adjoining tenements
on the Island of Manhattan. It appeared an impassable obstacle and
indeed it was, as the powerful Jim and the agile engineer had to admit
after a careful investigation.

"No use impaling ourselves on that thing," said Berwick. "It's pretty
clear that the folks in there don't wish to be disturbed."

"More reason for disturbing 'em," asserted Jim briefly. "That Mexican is
inside and has my valued possessions. I intend to get them back."

"I admit the logic, go ahead."

It might have been possible for Jim to have scaled the high fence with
its pointed iron spikes, but it was not practicable for the shorter John
Berwick.

For a little while Jim sat on the ground