rs of bleached shingle and larger boulders. Sandy
found a stone imbedded in the bank, loosened it, squatted on his
haunches and passed it to Sam, taking a gun in each hand.

"Chuck it into that sunflower patch," he said with his mouth close to
Sam's ear. "Then fire at the flashes." Sam pitched the stone through the
darkness. It fell with a rustle, chinked against a rock. Instantly
there came a fusillade from the opposite bank, four streaks of fire, the
bullets cutting through the dried stalks, the marksmen evidently hunting
in couples.

Sandy, crouching, pulled triggers and the shots rattled out as if fired
from an automatic. Beside him, Sam's gun barked. Each fired three times,
Sandy shooting two-handed, flinging six bullets with instinctive aim
while the bed of the creek echoed to the roar of the guns and the air
hung heavy with the reek of exploded gases. Then they rushed for the top
of the bank, wriggling behind the cover of bushes, lying prone for the
next chance.

One yell and a stream of curses came from across the arroyo. Two
indistinct figures bent above a third, lifted it, hurrying back toward a
clump of willows. The fourth man trailed the others, his oaths
smothered, running beside the two bearers, his hand held curiously in
front of him, dimly seen.

"They're through. That's enough," said Sandy. "We ain't killers."

"Got two of 'em," said Sam. "Good shootin', Sandy! I reckon I missed
clean. I fired to the left."

"The man who's down is Butch," said Sandy. "I'd know his figger in a
coal shaft. I've a hunch the other was Hahn. Hit him somewheres in the
hand; spile his dealin' fo' a while. Let's git out of this. They've
quit."

"Wonder if Plimsoll was with 'em. How about the hawsses? Can you whistle
Pronto back?"

"Reckon so."

They walked toward the bridge and crossed it, passing the gap on the
side timbers. Plimsoll's men had departed with their casualties. Sandy
whistled shrilly through his teeth. After a minute he repeated the call.

"Sure hate to hoof it to the ranch," said Sam. "Mebbe the shots
stampeded 'em. Better not try to borrow hawsses in town, I figger."

"No. Pronto ain't fur. Yore roan'll stick with him. That pinto of mine
is half human. I've sent him ahead before. Ef I'd yelled 'Home' he'd
have gone. Shots w'udn't have scared him. Made him stand by--like
Molly."

"Got yore money safe?"

"Yep."

There came a sound of pounding hoofs. Then that of others, coming from
the town.