"You!" Holding up the candle, Carmena stepped in to peer about the big anteroom. "Way you were stooped over I mistook you for---- Almost fired. What you doing?" The query was charged with suspicion. Lennon thrust in the crank peg, folded his arms, and leaned against the windlass. "I met your father's partner wandering about, and thought he needed an airing." The girl stared from the windlass out along the taut rope. "You don't mean----" "Yes, dangling head down." "Dead?" "Merely knocked out--worse luck! But one way of restoring consciousness is to raise the feet above the head. He may wake up any moment and appreciate the situation." "Any moment?" cried Carmena. She half dropped her candlestick on the stone floor and sprang to the windlass. "Quick! We must haul him up before he comes to." Lennon did not budge. "No, Miss Farley. That beast shall not again set foot in this place until Elsie is safe away." The girl's eyes widened. Her hand clutched and drew close across her rounded bosom the folds of the blanket that she had flung about her shoulders to cover her night gown. Her face paled and as quickly flushed scarlet. "I thought I heard sounds in the passage, but the rug curtain muffled them," she murmured. "Was he trying to--to----" "Had been drinking," replied Lennon. "My regret now is that the blow did not kill him." "And leave us no chance against Cochise? He's the only living creature that Cochise fears. Can't you see we must make believe--must keep up with him until we are rid of the Apaches? Bad as he is, he's a white man. Cochise is a--devil! When he tired of Blossom, he'd give her to his men." Convinced against his will, Lennon began to wind in on the windlass. Carmena went to the edge of the cliff. When the body of Slade came spinning and swinging up out of the gloom she held down the light and peered anxiously at the knot that held the rope about his thick ankles. It showed no signs of slipping. His down-hung head wobbled up into the flickering light of the candle. The face was purple; the bloodshot eyes were glazed. Carmena swung in the crane and freed the rope the moment Lennon eased off. Slade was wheezing as if almost suffocated. At Carmena's urging, Lennon helped her drag the stupefied man back into the living room. The girl ran to fetch a bowl of water. "Loosen your clothes," she whispered in Lennon's ear. "Hide your moccasins--look as if you'd just jumped out of bed--get your arm back in the sling. That's it. Now lift his head and shoulders up against this chair." As Lennon raised the flaccid upper body, Carmena began to dash water into the purple face. The blotched skin gradually lightened to its natural red. The pale eyes lost their fishy glaze. They stared dazedly up into the deeply concerned face of Carmena. She flung the last cupful of water from the bowl. Slade roused enough to mumble virulent curses.