ing his position, some of them might have
stolen to the numerous crags and outcroppings of rock at the base of the
pueblo. They might now be massing for a rush up the slope. But he doubted
they would risk the latter move, for they knew that he must be on the
alert, and they had cause to fear his rifle.

Once he rested his head on his extended right arm, and the contact was so
agreeable that he allowed it to remain there--long. He caught himself in
time; in another second he would have been too late. He saw the figure of
a man on the slope a foot or two below the crest. He was flat on his
stomach, no doubt having crept there during the minutes that Trevison had
been enjoying his rest, and at the instant Trevison saw him he was raising
his rifle, directing it at the recess where Levins had been left, on
guard.

Trevison was wide awake now, and his marksmanship as deadly as ever. He
waited until the man's rifle came to a level. Then his own weapon spat
viciously. The man rose to his knees, reeling. Another rifle cracked--from
the recess where Levins was concealed, this time--and the man sank to the
dust of the slope, rolling over and over until he reached the bottom,
where he stretched out and lay prone. There was a shout of rage from a
section of rock-strewn level near the foot of the slope, and Trevison's
lips curled with satisfaction. The second shot had told him that a fear he
had entertained momentarily was unfounded--Levins was apparently quite
alive.

He raised himself cautiously, backed away from the rock behind which he
had been concealed, and wheeled, intending to join Levins. A faint sound
reached his ears from the plains, and he faced around again, to see a
group of horsemen riding toward the pueblo. They were coming fast, racing
ahead of a dust cloud, and were perhaps a quarter of a mile distant. But
Trevison knew them, and stepped boldly out to the edge of the stone ledge
waving his hat to them, laughing full-throatedly, his voice vibrating a
little as he spoke:

"Good old Barkwell!"

* * * * *

"That's him!"

Barkwell pulled his horse to a sliding halt as he saw the figure on the
pueblo, outlined distinctly in the clear white light of the dawn.

"He's all right!" he declared to the others as they followed his example
and drew their beasts down. "Them's some of the scum that's been after
him," he added as several horsemen swept around the far side of the
pu