s I? Oh, yes, three hundred and five, three
hundred and six, three hundred and----"

Again he stopped, but did not turn around. Instead he stooped
down as though to pick up a stone, which enabled him to look
backward between his knees.

He caught a movement in the grass at the edge of the right of
way.

"I thought so," he muttered. "Now to find out who it is, and what
he wants."

He picked up a small stone and threw it at a tall cactus which
grew near the track some distance ahead.

"Good shot," he said aloud as the stone hit the stalk. "I wonder
if I could do it again."

He stooped down and picked up another stone, taking a good look
backward from his stooping position. There was not a movement to
indicate the presence of a living thing.

"This is getting on my nerves," the boy mused as he picked up
several small stones and again walked forward. "I don't mind
being followed by a white man, but I'm a whole lot leary of these
greasers. They're bad enough when they're friendly."

Then aloud, as he threw a couple of stones: "I'll never get
anywhere if I don't make better time than this. I'll just sprint
a few."

Suiting the action to the word, he started on a run.

Almost immediately he was aware of a soft pat-pat in his rear. He
had heard a similar sound in the wilds of Wyoming and he
recognized it at once.

It was the footfall of a four-legged animal.

"So!" he ejaculated. "I wonder what it is. If there were wolves
down here I would say it was a wolf, but I don't believe there
are." Then a minute later, "Well, whatever it is, I'm going to
find out."

He whipped out his automatic and turned suddenly.

As before, not a single living thing was in sight, only in the
grass a movement as before.

Without a moment's aim, he fired a single shot at the spot. It
was an act born of fear and Billie knew it, but for the life of
him he could not have done otherwise, so nervous had he become.

The report was followed by a cry of pain and an instant later
there came running directly toward him out of the tall grass a
figure so weird that Billie stood as one paralysed.

The figure was that of a man not more than two feet high, with
long arms and a head of diminutive size. While it stood upright
at times, at others it came forward on all fours. To Billie it
seemed a cross between a man and a monkey.

Gathering his wits in an instant, Billie would have fired
again--in fact, raised his revolver to do so, when the