Hawkins pressed something into Wild Bill’s hands. They were a couple of six-shooters. “Them’s yourn,” went on Hawkins. “Red Steve give ’em ter me ter take keer of, when ye was landed on at the foot o’ the hill. Yer hoss is in the grove whar he was left that other time. I’ve got the saddle an’ bridle on him. All ye got ter do, Wild Bill, is ter crawl up the chimbly, git ter the ground same as I come up, go down the hill an’ git inter the saddle. I’ll go with ye, an’ we’ll talk further. Yore move is ter git back ter the Star-A an’ tell Buffler Bill what ye know. Ye ort ter hev made that move afore, but thar wasn’t no way I could help pull it off till now.” Wild Bill had been pleasantly disappointed. He had thought Hawkins was a foe, and here he was turning out to be a friend. The Laramie man reached out gropingly in the dark. “Where’s your fist, Hawkins?” he murmured. “Hyer.” Wild Bill shook the hand. “You’re a whole man, Hawkins,” went on Wild Bill. “I’d never have believed this of you if I hadn’t gone through it personally.” “Ye needn’t thank me,” said Hawkins deprecatingly. “Thank the sky pilot. If it hadn’t been fer him, I’d be here clamorin’ fer yer skelp. The sky pilot advised me ter hang on with Steve an’ Benner, playin’ a double part an’ watchin’ my chance ter do a good turn fer right an’ jestice. But we kain’t stand hyer palaverin’. It ain’t safe. Any minit Red Steve may come in, an’ the fat ’u’d be in the fire. Ye’ve been in that chimbly oncet, an’ hyer’s whar ye foller me up ag’in. Come on, an’ come quiet.” Hawkins guided Wild Bill across the room to the fireplace; then, getting inside, the two men mounted up and up, planting their feet on the projecting stones and wedging themselves in the flue with their arms and elbows. Great care had to be exercised in order not to alarm Red Steve. The Laramie man had not forgotten that the two flues constituted a whispering gallery, and that unusual noises in the chimney would reach the ears of any one in the living room. But Red Steve may have been half dozing. At any rate, he heard nothing and was not aroused. Hawkins was first to climb over the top of the big chimney. As Wild Bill followed him, they could hear Shorty Dobbs and Splinters Gibson talking below, near the window at the end of the adobe house. “So fur, so good,” whispered Hawkins, “but we ain’t out o’ the woods yit. We’ll have ter hang ter the aidge o’ the roof an’ drap. I’ll drap fust, then you foller.” Like a shadow, Hawkins lowered himself from the roof’s edge and let go. A slight thump came back to Wild Bill. It was not a long drop--the house was only a one-story affair--but there was a chance to sprain an ankle, for all that. Wild Bill slipped carefully from the edge of the roof, hung a moment, and then loosened his fingers. His foot struck on a stone, and he fell with quite a scramble. There was a stir around the corner, and a dark form showed itself.