low and mosquitoes singing. Occasionally Houck's
voice rose in delirious excitement. Sometimes he thought the Utes were
torturing him. Again he lived over scenes in the past. Snatches of babble
carried back to the days of his turbulent youth when all men's cattle
were his. In the mutterings born of a sick brain Bob heard presently the
name of June.

"... Tell you I've took a fancy to you. Tell you Jake Houck gets what he
wants. No sense you rarin' around, June. I'm yore man.... Mine, girl.
Don't you ever forget it. Mine for keeps.... Use that gun, damn you, or
crawl into a hole. I'm takin' yore wife from you. Speak yore piece. Tell
her to go with me. Ha! Ha! Ha!"

The firing came nearer.

Again Dud guessed what was taking place. "They've got the Utes outa the
gulch an' are drivin' them down the valley. Right soon they're liable to
light on us hard. Depends on how much the boys are pressin' them."

They had two rifles and four revolvers, for Houck had lately become a
two-gun man. These they examined carefully to make sure they were in
order. The defenders crouched back to back in the pit, each of them
searching the thicket for an angle of one hundred and eighty degrees.

The sound of the battle died down. Evidently the pursuers were out of
contact with the natives.

"Don't like that," Dud said. "If the Utes have time they'll try to pick
us up as they're passin'."

Bob fired.

"See one?" asked his friend.

"Think so. Something moved. Down in that hollow. He's outa sight now."

"They've got us located, then. Old Man Trouble headed this way. Something
liable to start. Soon now."

The minutes dragged. Bob's eyes blurred from the intensity with which he
watched.

A bullet struck the edge of the pit. Bob ducked involuntarily. Presently
there was a second shot--and a third.

"They're gettin' warm," Dud said.

He and Bob fired at the smoke puffs, growing now more frequent. Both of
them knew it would be only a short time till one of them was hit unless
their friends came to the rescue. Spurts of sand flew every few moments.

There was another undesirable prospect. The Utes might charge and capture
the pit, wiping out the defenders. To prevent this the cowpunchers kept
up as lively a fire as possible.

From down the valley came the sound of scattered shots and yells. Dud
swung his hat in glee.

"Good boys! They're comin' in on the rear. Hi yi yippy yi!"

Firing began again on the other side. The Utes were ca