racted to a large
dark object lying in the canyon trail some twenty yards from the
nearest hut. Straining his eyes in the inadequate moonlight, he saw
that it was the outstretched figure of a man. His quarry--his
ambusher!

* * * * *

Phil dropped flat, fearful of being seen. Keeping as best he could in
the shadows, fearing every moment to hear the sharp bark of a gun, he
crawled forward. It took him a long time to approach the sprawled
figure, but he wasn't taking chances. When within twenty feet, he rose
suddenly and darted forward to the man's side.

His rapid glance showed him that the fellow was completely out: and
another quick look around failed to show that anyone else was
watching, so he returned to his examination of the man. It was the
ambusher, all right: a Mexican. He was still breathing, though his
face was drawn and white from the loss of blood from a wound under the
blood-soaked clothing near his upper right arm. A hasty search showed
that he no longer had his gun, so Phil, satisfied that he was
powerless for some time to come, cautiously wormed his way towards the
two shacks.

There was something sinister in the strange silence that hung over
them. One was of queer construction--a windowless, square, high box
of galvanized iron. The other was obviously a dwelling place.
Carefully Phil sneaked up to the latter. Then, rifle ready, he pushed
its door open and sent a beam of light stabbing through the darkness
of the interior.

There was no one there. Only two bunks, a table, chair, a pail of
water and some cooking utensils met his view. He crept out toward the
other building.

Come close, Phil found that a dun-colored canvas had been thrown over
the top of it, making an adequate camouflage in daytime. The place was
about twenty feet high. He prowled around the metal walls and
discovered a rickety door. Again, gun ready, he flung it open. The
beam from his flash speared a path through the blackness--and he
gasped at sight of what stood revealed.

There, inside, was a long, bullet-like tube of metal, the pointed end
upper-most, and the bottom, which was flat, toward the ground. It was
held in a wooden cradle, and was slanted at the floor. In the bottom
were holes of two shapes--rocket tubes and disintegrating projectors.
It was another earth-borer.

* * * * *

Phil stood frozen with surprise before this totally unlooked-for
machine.