ve got your folks to think of."

"Do you think I'm a yellow dog, or what?" Sandy snapped back, glaring
at him. "Quit? I think I see myself. I'll smash this Dade's belt buckle
right now." He lifted his rifle.

"Hold on," said McHale. "This kid is some obstinate," he called to
Dade. "His _tumtum_ is that he'll stick. _I_ don't want him in it."

"He's got his chance," said Dade. "It's up to him."

Young McCrae launched a string of epithets at him, the cream of the
vocabularies of certain mule skinners of his acquaintance. Meanwhile
his finger itched on the trigger.

"You're a durn poor persuader," said McHale. "The kid will stick. Far's
I'm concerned, if you want me, come and get me. Don't show your hide no
more. I'm surely done talkin' to you."

Dade turned and walked away. Sandy covered him.

"Not in the back," said McHale.

Immediately afterward a thirty-thirty struck a rock in front of them,
glancing off at an angle, wailing away into the distance. Sandy McCrae,
lying at full length peering along the slim barrel of his weapon,
pressed the trigger and swore in disappointment.

"Centred a stump," he said. "There it is yet. It looked like somebody."

All was quiet for five minutes. Then a sleet of lead pelted their
position, patting against the cliff behind them, and splashing upon the
rocks in front. Splinters and particles of stone, lead, and nickel flew
everywhere.

"Git down low," McHale advised, hugging a bowlder.

"I am down," said Sandy.

"Then dig a hole." McHale laughed, and then swore as a sharp fragment
of rock ripped his cheek.

"Hit you?"

"Nope. Rock sliver. I'll bet their guns is gettin' hot. This won't
last."

The fusillade ceased. McHale shoved his rifle barrel through a crevice.

"Maybe some gent will stick out his head to see how many corpses there
is of us. This light's gettin' durn bad. I wish I had an ivory
foresight, 'stead o' this gold bead. I can't see----"

His rifle muzzle leaped in recoil as he spoke. Two hundred yards away a
man making a rush forward for a closer position winced and half halted.
Instantly Sandy's rifle lanced the dimming light with a twelve-foot
shaft of flame. The man straightened, staggered, and threw both arms
upward as if to shield his face. Sandy fired again as the lever clashed
back into place. The man fell forward.

"Got him!" cried Sandy exultantly. "Centred him twice, Tom!"

"I reckon you did. That's one out of it." He fired again without
res