etter to boss the job," he drawled,
"I reckon all the shooting I did wouldn't have cut any ice. Ain't that
right, boys?"

Pink, resting his rifle in a niche of the boulder and moving it here and
there trying to fix his sights on a certain green sweater back in the
woods that he had glimpsed a minute before, nodded assent. "You're durn
tootin' it's right!" he testified.

Weary looked shining-eyed at Applehead's purple face. "Sure, that's
right!" he emphasized. "And I don't care how much of a trap you call
this, it isn't a patching to the one Applehead busted us out of. He's
what I call a Real One, boys."

"Aw, shet yore dang head 'n' git yore rifles workin'!" Applehead
blurted. "This yere ain't no time fer kiddin', 'n' I'm tellin' yuh
straight. What's them fellers acrost the Fryin'-pan think they're tryin'
t' do? luck le's you'n me make a few remarks over that way, 'n' leave
the boys t' do some gun-talk with these here babies behind us. Dang it,
if I knowed of a better place 'n' what this is fer holdin' 'em off, I'd
say make a run fer it. But I don't 'n' that's fact. Yuh musta sprung the
trap 'fore yuh got inside, 'cause they shore aimed t' occupy this nest
uh rocks theirselves, with you fellers down there in the Fryin'-pan
where they could git at yuh.

"Thar's one of 'em up on the rim-rock--see 'im?--standin' thar, by
granny, like he was darin' somebody t' cut loose! Here, Lite, you spill
some lead up thar. We'll learn 'im t' act up smart--"

"Hey, hold on!" Luck grabbed Lite's arm as he was raising his rifle
for a close shot at the fellow. "Don't shoot! Don't you see? Thaf's the
peace-sign he's making!"

"Well, now, dang it, he better be makin' peace-signs!" growled Applehead
querulously, and sat down heavily on a shelf of the rock. "'Cause Lite,
here, shore woulda tuk an ear off'n him in another minute, now I'm
tellin' ye!"

CHAPTER XIX. PEACE TALK

Across the Frying-pan an Indian stood boldly out upon a jutting point of
rock and raised a hand in the sweeping upward motion of the peace-sign.
The questing bullets that came seeking for bone and flesh among the
rocks and bushes came no more when the signal was passed from those
who saw to those farther back who could not see the figure silhouetted
against the brilliant blue of the sky. A moment he stood, made the sign
again, and waited.

"That's peace-sign, sure as you're born!" Luck cried breathlessly, and
went scrambling through the bushes to where he m