by foot
to the point where they left the dry creek-bed and swung up the broken
bank to a swale.

"Probably Roubideau and his son Jean after strays," suggested Prince.

"No. Notice this track here, how it's broken off at the edge. When I cut
Indian sign yesterday, this was one of those I saw."

"Then these are 'Paches too?"

"Yes."

"Goin' to the Roubideau place." The voice of Billie was low and husky.
His brown young face had been stricken gray. Bleak fear lay in the gray
eyes. His companion knew he was thinking of the girl. "How many of 'em do
you make out?"

"Six or seven. Not sure which."

"How old?"

"They passed here not an hour since."

It was as if a light of hope had been lit in the face of the young man.
"Mebbe there's time to help yet. Kid, I'm goin' in."

Jim Thursday made no reply, unless it was one to vault to the saddle and
put his horse to the gallop. They rode side by side, silently and
alertly, rifles across the saddle-horns in their hands. The boy from
Arizona looked at his new friend with an increase of respect. This was,
of course, a piece of magnificent folly. What could two boys do against
half a dozen wily savages? But it was the sort of madness that he loved.
His soul went out in a gush of warm, boyish admiration to Billie Prince.
It was the beginning of a friendship that was to endure, in spite of
rivalry and division and misunderstanding, through many turbid years of
trouble. This was no affair of theirs. Webb had sent them out to protect
the cattle drive. They were neglecting his business for the sake of an
adventure that might very well mean the death of both of them. But it was
characteristic of Thursday that it never even occurred to him to let
Prince take the chance alone. Even in the days to come, when his name was
anathema in the land, nobody ever charged that he would not go through
with a comrade.

There drifted to them presently the faint sound of a shot. It was
followed by a second and a third.

"The fight's on," cried Thursday.

Billie's quirt stung the flank of his pony. Near the entrance to the
canon his companion caught up with him. From the rock walls of the gulch
came to them booming echoes of rifles in action.

"Roubideau must be standin' 'em off," shouted Prince.

"Can we take the 'Paches by surprise? Is there any other way into the
canon?"

"Don't know. Can't stop to find out. I'm goin' straight up the road."

The younger man offered no protest. It mi