he stockade."

"What are you going----"

That was as far as Jack got in his question. As the words left his
lips, there came from without the sharp sound of a shot.

Bang!

"Phew!" whistled Buck. "That's the overture. The performance is about
ter begin."

In the meantime, the members of the party left at the peep-holes by
Buck Bradley and Jack, had been trying their level best to obtain some
inkling of which side the insurrectos meant to storm first. But, for
all the sign the long, waving grass gave, or the bushes imparted, they
might as well have gazed at the sky. Had they not known that the
insurrectos were out there somewhere, they would have deemed the
hillside barren of life.

Suddenly, however, as Coyote Pete's keen eye was sweeping the open
space before the stockade, the grass quite near at hand parted, and a
wiry little Mexican stepped out.

It was a good evidence of the control that Madero exercised over his
men that this fellow, although he must have known he was placing his
life in deadly peril, advanced to within a few feet of the stockade
without a tremor.

Apparently, judging from his expression, he was astonished that no
hostile demonstration came from within. But the defenders had no wish
to sacrifice life needlessly, and refrained from firing upon him.
Suddenly he halted, and raising his voice, cried out in Spanish:

"Will you foolish gringoes surrender and give up the gold peaceably, or
must we attack the mine?"

"Did Madero tell you to ask that?" shouted Pete through his peep-hole.

"Yes; the general demanded that I should offer you this chance for your
lives."

"Then tell the general, with our compliments, that if he thinks he'll
get Mr. Merrill's gold without a fight, he's up against the toughest
proposition he ever tackled."

"As you will, senors. Adios!"

With a wave of his hat, the Mexican ran speedily back down the
hillside, and dived into some bushes. The watchers of the stockade
were of the opinion that the wave of the hat was merely a bit of Latin
extravagance. They soon found out, however, that it had the
significance of a signal. For, as the fellow dropped into cover, the
grass became alive with human forms. Coyote Pete's finger, which had
been trembling upon the trigger, pressed it.

Bang!

It was the first shot of the desperate battle for the defense of the
mine, and the sound that had reached the two in the boiler house.

The report was followed by a se