wk opened his eyes. They wandered from one object to another in the
dim candle gloom, until they rested on Laramie's face; there they
stopped.

Laramie's features relaxed into as near a smile as he permitted himself
on duty: "How you coming, Abe?"

Hawk eyed him steadily: "What are you doing here tonight?"

Laramie answered with a question: "How about trying the gauntlet?"

"That what you want?"

"It's what Lefever and Carpy want."

"They running things?"

"They think you'd get well full as quick at a hospital."

"What do you think?"

"I guess you would."

"Tired taking care of me?"

"Not yet, Abe."

"Raining?"

"Hell bent."

"What's the other noise?"

"Thunder; and the river's up."

The roar of the waters was not new to the ears of the two men who
listened, however much it might have disturbed others unused to their
tearing fury.

Hawk listened thoughtfully: "Why didn't you pick a wet night?" he asked.

"We had to pick a dark one, Abe."

"Where's the horses?"

"Over at my place--what's that?"

The last words broke from Laramie's lips like the crack of a pistol.
He sprang to his feet. Hawk's hand shot out for his gun. Only
practised ears could have detected under the steady downpour of rain,
the deep roar of the canyon and the reverberation of the thunder, the
hoof beats of a stumbling horse. The next instant, they heard the
horse directly over their heads. Laramie, whipping out his revolver,
looked up. As he did so, a deafening crash blotted out the roar of the
storm--the roof overhead gave way and amid an avalanche of rock and
timbers, a horse plunged headlong into the refuge.

In the narrow quarters so amazingly invaded, darkness added to an
instant of frantic confusion. Laramie was knocked flat. In the midst
of the fallen timbers, the horse, mad with terror, struggled to get to
his feet. A suppressed groan betrayed the rider under him.

Laramie, where he lay, gun in hand, and Hawk, had but one thought:
their retreat had been discovered and attacked. It was no part of
their defense to reveal their presence by wild shooting. The enemy who
had plunged in on top of them was at their mercy, even though unseen.
He was caught under the horse, and to clap a revolver to his head and
blow the top off was simple; it could be done at any moment. Of much
greater import it was, carefully to await his companions when they rode
up, above, and pick them off as chance offered. Escape, if t