Suddenly he turned and dived back. As he did so a bullet plunked against a rock right over his head. “Gee-whiskers!” he sputtered. “That was a close call.” No rifle or revolver report had sounded. “_They_ ain’t in the town, you bet!” His apelike face had changed in a moment to an ashen white, showing terror. “It was from Bill Betts’ rifle,” he said. Tim Benson was not a little startled. “You saw Bill Betts out there?” he asked. “I seen the swish of his umbreller; then that came at me.” Sweat began to stream out of his face. “Take a look out, and see! It was over by that big rock. But look out fer yerself.” A good deal puzzled, Tim Benson crept to the edge of the hole and looked out. After staring hard he failed to locate the umbrella. “I don’t see anything,” he called back in a whisper. “Mebby she’s circlin’!” “_She?_” “I see that yuh don’t know much about ther Betts brothers. Jim, he’s a tall, ganglin’ feller; while his brother is little; that’s Bill. And Bill he does the female lay.” “I see. One of my little tricks--plays woman.” “Where they ain’t known they purtend ter be husband and wife, and air gin’rally quarrelin’ about all ther time, jest to fool folks. The woman--I’ve kinder got inter ther habit o’ callin’ Bill a woman!--don’t carry any weepins that anybody knows of, but she is allers packin’ about with her a big gray umbreller. It’s her rifle; an air gun, that shoots wicked, yit don’t make a sound that you can hear ten yards off. She whanged at me jest now with her air gun. Which shows that she seen me. And o’ course she’s crawlin’ up. Ain’t thar no way o’ gittin’ out o’ this infernal hole without rushin’ out thar?” “I don’t see her, or the umbrella,” Benson declared. Gorilla Jake ventured to creep out at Benson’s side. As soon as he could see across the rocks he dropped down, dragging at the sleeve of his companion. “Thar! Thar!” he said, shivering. “Don’t yer see it?” “Blamed if I do.” “That gray rock off thar; looks jest like a gray rock, anyhow. It’s her umbreller. She’s squattin behind it, waiting fer me to show myself. She’ll hold us hyer till Cody’s crowd comes up. It’s her game. She thinks she has got me in a hole, and now she has plugged up the hole.” Tim Benson saw the “gray rock,” when Gorilla Jake pointed it out to him; but even then could hardly believe that the gray object was not a rock. “If it’s an umbrella, a bullet through it ought to get Bill Betts,” he said. “Which goes ter show that you don’t know her. She is layin’ off to one side, prob’ly, wi’ a rock coverin’ her, er coverin’ her head and shoulders, so a bullet through ther umbreller wouldn’t git her.” He worked a little higher, even at a risk, and tried to look round. He was perspiring profusely, and his gray eyes glittered; while his lips, drawn back, revealed his fanglike teeth. More than ever he resembled an ape or gorilla, rather than a man.