fellow was planning an escape with the boy.
Therefore, when he saw Fremont disappearing from view in the darkness,
with Big Bob close after him, he drew his revolver and fired at the
renegade. The shot took effect and Big Bob dropped to the ground.

"I hope he's killed him!" Jimmie said, heartily.

"No such luck as that!" Frank exclaimed. "See, the lobster is getting
out his own gun!"

Big Bob lay in an awkward pose on the ground, his face and the muzzle
of his automatic revolver turned toward the window. The boys almost
held their breath as the figure of the messenger appeared, blocking the
opening. When they saw what the purpose of the wounded man was they
shouted to Downs to warn him, but were too late.

The automatic sent a hail of bullets toward the opening, and Downs fell
limply across the window-ledge. At the fusillade of shots the outlaws
came to the corner of the hut and glanced fearfully about. The square
of light before the windows showed Big Bob lying on the ground and
Downs hanging, head downward, from the window. Their natural
supposition was that the hut had been attacked by a large force, so
they took to their heels and were seen no more by the boys.

After a minute devoted to Black Bear hugs, and handshakes, and words of
congratulation over his escape, the boys left Fremont in the shelter of
the darkness and advanced to where Big Bob lay.

"It is all off with me, lads!" the big fellow said, as he turned his
face to the boys. "I can't walk, for he shot me through the back.
Will you get me into the hut?"

"Sure!" replied Jimmie. "You're pretty tough as a human proposition,
but we can't see you suffer out here in the rain."

"Before you go any further," the man said, then, "see if Downs is dead.
If I didn't get him right, he'll kill some one before he dies."

Nestor and Frank walked over to the body and made a quick examination.

"Stone dead," they said. "He never knew what hit him!"

"I am glad of that," Big Bob said. "Now get me into the hut."

The wounded man was carried into the hut and laid down on a heap of
coats before the fire. It was easy to see that he was fatally injured,
and the boys gathered about him with pale faces.

"I'm glad none of us shot him!" Frank said.

The storm grew wilder at midnight, the wind blowing in great gusts and
the rain falling in sheets. By dodging out into the rain now and then
the boys managed to keep the fire going. Big Bob lay perfectly si