will prevent him
from jumping in on us."

During the next ten minutes no less than a dozen shots were exchanged
without apparent effect.

Sam was growing more cautious.

The discharge of Jim's weapon, thus showing there were at least two
confronting him, had taught a salutary lesson, and he now appeared
eager to find a better shelter.

Jet understood what the man wished to do and determined to prevent it
if possible.

Sam, in his present position, did not dare show himself long enough to
take aim, and while he remained behind this particular tree there was
little danger he could do very serious damage.

By this time Jet's wound had begun to make itself felt.

The pain had become great, and the blood was yet flowing freely.

Once he thought he would creep over to Jim that the latter might fasten
a ligature above the aperture, thus checking the blood, but in order to
do so it would have been necessary to expose himself to a certain
extent, and also give Sam the desired opportunity to gain a better
shelter.

"I don't see any way out of the scrape," he said to himself, "for
there's no chance anybody will come this way, and he's bound to get the
best of us after a time, because I can't hold out a great while longer
if I keep on growing weak; but anything is better than surrendering
willingly."

Therefore he remained where he was, firing on the slightest chance of
hitting the mark, and using the revolver when the gun was empty.

The only ray of hope which Jet could see in the entire business was the
fact that Sam might not have a full supply of cartridges.

He no longer shot at random, reserving his fire as if it was necessary
to make every shot count, but this might mean nothing more than a
desire to tire the others out.

Jet was growing weaker each moment.

Jim watched his companion anxiously, ready to take flight the instant
he was overcome.

Jet knew exactly what would happen the instant he failed to show a bold
front, and between two evils be chose the one which seemed the least.

Loading the gun and the revolver he laid both at his side, and stripped
off his coat to stanch the flow of crimson fluid.

Sam must have seen this movement, for at that moment he ran for a clump
of trees half a dozen yards farther off, and succeeded in gaining the
desired spot before Jet could pick up his weapons.

"Why didn't you fire?" the latter asked sharply.

"I didn't know he was goin' to leave so sudden," was the