ly; then heavy, sodden blows, and Don Carlos was beaten to the
ground. Stewart leaped back. Then, crouching with his hands on the butts
of guns at his hips, he yelled, he thundered at the guerrillas. He had
been quicker than a panther, and now his voice was so terrible that
it curdled Madeline's blood, and the menace of deadly violence in his
crouching position made her shut her eyes. But she had to open them. In
that single instant Nels and Monty had leaped to Stewart's side. Both
were bent down, with hands on the butts of guns at their hips. Nels's
piercing yell seemed to divide Monty's roar of rage. Then they ceased,
and echoes clapped from the crags. The silence of those three men
crouching like tigers about to leap was more menacing than the
nerve-racking yells.

Then the guerrillas wavered and broke and ran for their horses. Don
Carlos rolled over, rose, and staggered away, to be helped upon his
mount. He looked back, his pale and bloody face that of a thwarted
demon. The whole band got into action and were gone in a moment.

"I knew it," declared Ambrose. "Never seen a Greaser who could face
gun-play. That was some warm. And Monty Price never flashed a gun! He'll
never get over that. I reckon, Miss Harnmond, we're some lucky to avoid
trouble. Gene had his way, as you seen. We'll be makin' tracks for the
ranch in about two shakes."

"Why?" whispered Madeline, breathlessly. She became conscious that she
was weak and shaken.

"Because the guerrillas sure will get their nerve back, and come
sneakin' on our trail or try to head us off by ambushin'," replied
Ambrose. "That's their way. Otherwise three cowboys couldn't bluff
a whole gang like that. Gene knows the nature of Greasers. They're
white-livered. But I reckon we're in more danger now than before, unless
we get a good start down the mountain. There! Gene's callin'. Come!
Hurry!"

Helen had slipped down from her vantage-point, and therefore had not
seen the last act in that little camp-fire drama. It seemed, however,
that her desire for excitement was satisfied, for her face was pale and
she trembled when she asked if the guerrillas were gone.

"I didn't see the finish, but those horrible yells were enough for me."

Ambrose hurried the three women over the rough rocks, down the cliff.
The cowboys below were saddling horses in haste. Evidently all the
horses had been brought out of hiding. Swiftly, with regard only for
life and limb, Madeline, Helen, and C