Bart was more desperate, as his words indicated, for he half snarled: "Don't kill the poor horses! Shoot the human brutes!" Then he began firing, and, if his nerve had been as steady as Frank's, scarcely one of the six would have escaped. As it was, he quickly wounded two of them. This was a reception the men had not counted on. Those whose horses had not been shot made haste to rein about and dash away, one with a dangling arm, while the others leaped to the shelter of the rocks. "Now they have us cornered!" came fiercely from Bart's lips. "If you had not wasted your bullets, Frank, we would have the advantage now." "Don't you care," laughed Frank, lightly. "We are hotter company than they were looking for, and I rather fancy we'll be able to give them a jolly good racket." Frank was in a reckless mood. Danger ever seemed to affect him thus. A bullet tore his hat from his head, but he picked it up, laughing, as if it were all sport. For some minutes the boys and their enemies popped away at each other, and then, from the opposite direction along the ravine, came the sound of galloping horses. "Here come our friends!" cried Bart, joyfully. "We are all right now! Those chaps will have to take to their heels." Suddenly a sharp whistle rang through the ravine from above, and the party below answered in a similar manner. The boys looked at each other in astonishment. "Shield yourselves as far as possible in both directions," cried Frank. "If I am not mistaken, we have enemies above and below!" Crouching behind the rocks, they saw the second party dash into view--four in all. Three of them were men, but their leader was a girl, who wore a mask over her face. "There!" exclaimed Frank--"there is the queen of the counterfeiters!" CHAPTER XLVI. AFTER THE FIGHT. The masked girl seemed to have the eyes of an eagle, for she immediately located the trio behind the rocks. A wild cry broke from her lips, and then she caught the rein in her teeth, snatched out two revolvers, and charged straight down upon the boys and the girl they were defending, firing as she came. The men followed her. With hoarse shouts, the first party of pursuers joined in the charge, and the trio of defenders were between two fires. "Shoot to kill! Shoot to kill!" screamed Bart. "Do not waste bullets now! It will be fatal if you do." Only too well did Frank realize that he must seek human targets for his bullets. It was not the first time in his life that he had been compelled to do such a thing, but he always regretted the necessity, and did so only when forced to the last ditch. It is a very easy thing to sit down quietly and think or write of shooting a human being in self-defense; but such a thing is not easy for conscientious persons to do. When the time comes, they either shoot in desperate haste, before they can think much about it, or hold off as long as possible.