which pinned him
firmly to the ground.

17

Drew struggled wildly but he could not break the grip which held him down.
He was looking up into the face of Greyfeather, and none of his writhing
made any impression on the Pima's hold. There was a sprinkle of shots;
then a whirl of the wind brought sand up over them, blinding eyes, filling
mouth and nose. Even the Indian flinched from that and Drew managed to
tear loose. He rolled down the grade, bringing up against a small tree
with a jolt which drove most of the air from his laboring lungs.

He pulled his arm up across his face, trying to shield his eyes from the
blast which thickened steadily, gasping for air to breathe. And the wind
voiced a howl which arose as alarmingly as the stallions' screaming.

Stallions! Drew clawed his way up to his knees. But there was no seeing
through that murk to where Shiloh had been. Then he was on his feet,
stumbling along ... the big gray must be hidden somewhere....

"Drew!" A figure blundered into him from behind, almost sending him to the
ground again. "Get down, you fool!" Hands clutched at his body, trying to
pull him earthward.

"Let me go! Shiloh--"

"Get down!" Anse's whole weight struck him, and he fell, the Texan
sprawling with him. It was only then that he heard the spatter of rifle
fire and understood that they were in the middle of an exchange of lead
slugs.

"Keep down!" Anse, his voice ragged with anger, snapped the command in
Drew's ear. "What in thunder you tryin' to do? You gone completely loco,
_amigo_? Walkin' right out to git yourself shot like them bullets was
nothin' but pecans or somethin' like!"

For the first time Drew realized what he had done--blown Rennie's carefully
planned trap sky-high. His shot at the Pinto must have been warning enough
for the fugitives. But why were they trying to make a fight of it now,
when to cut and run would have been the smartest move? Unless, having seen
only one man, they believed he was alone. He tried to rub the dust from
his eyes and think coherently. But all that was in the forefront of his
mind was that last sight of Shiloh following the Pinto to battle.

"All right." Drew shifted in Anse's hold. "It's all right."

Not that it was, but at least that was the best way he could express his
return to reason. And the Texan appeared to understand, for his grip
loosened.

The dust which had blown up an opaque curtain dropped as quickly. They lay
together