"If they do--well, I can't be worse off than I was in Elreno jail. I'll have weapons, and I can fight. I may be able to make it hot for them before they down me." Frank was reckless, and he felt a strange delight in the adventure through which he was passing. Somehow, now that he had escaped being lynched, he believed he would be successful in bringing Black Harry to book and proving his own innocence. Frank's first care was to obtain some revolvers, and he was soon in possession of a pair of fine weapons. With these loaded and ready to his hand, he breathed easier. Of course he had no idea of sleeping, but he entered the hut and looked the place over. Morning was not far away, and the time soon passed, while Frank pretended to sleep. At daybreak he was astir, and looking the place over. The cabin was built in a strange spot, standing close to the verge of a chasm that opened down into the lower depths of the canyon, through which ran a stream of water. Dan Cade, the man who had built the cabin there, was said to have been crazy. He had lived there years before the opening of Oklahoma to settlement, and had died there in that wild gorge. His only friends were the Indians, as he hated and mistrusted his own race. It had often been remarked by those who passed through the canyon that no man in his right mind would have built a cabin in such a place. It looked as if the building was crouching on the verge of the chasm, preparing to spring headlong into the creek below. Here the outlaws had camped. Frank found a flight of stairs that led to the cabin loft. They were shaky, but he ascended to investigate. There was a square door, shaped like a window, at the back end of the cabin, and this the boy opened. He thrust his head out, and found he was looking down the face of the bluff straight into the stream far below. The light that shone into the loft revealed, to the boy's surprise and wonder, a coil of rope. He examined this, and found a stout clasp-hook at one end. The other end of the rope was made fast to a rafter. For some time Frank wondered to what use old Cade had put the rope, but it came to him at last. "With this he drew his water from the stream down there." This seemed evident, as there was no other apparent means of procuring water. The outlaws slept heavily, apparently fatigued by their exertions of the night. They had left sentinels in both directions, up and down the canyon, so that they could not be taken by surprise should they be followed by enemies. The sun had not risen when Frank went forth into the morning air. The horses were tethered near the cabin, and a half-blood Indian was watching them. As Frank approached, the half-blood peered out from beneath the blanket, which was drawn up over his head. The boy saw the fellow's beady eyes regarding him, and then the blanket was drawn closer, indicating that the Indian was satisfied.