Henry, peering through the brush, saw a movement, caught a flash of color. He steadied the gun over the rock, holding it in both hands, and squeezed the trigger. The rattling report brought a yell of pain, and a general scurrying around in the brush. A man was cursing, and Henry heard him say: “We’ve got to git out of here, I tell yuh! I’ve got some busted ribs. If the boys ain’t finished--we can’t help it.” “Lettin’ two old fossils like that whip us,” complained the other man. “Pull yore shirt tight over them ribs, can’tcha?” From far up the canyon came the rattling report of a gun. “He-e-ey! What’s goin’ on up there?” came from one of the men. “C’mon! That don’t sound good!” Henry could hear the two men going up through the brush. He backed out and called to Judge. After a few moments he heard Judge say, “I just wanted to be sure they had really gone, sir. Are you all right, Henry?” “The latest reports from outlying precincts,” replied Henry, “would indicate that I am not running too well. Who did you hit?” “He is there at the top of the slope, where we were captured.” * * * * * Henry managed to climb up there, where Judge was looking down at his victim. Judge and Henry looked at each other, and Judge said blankly: “Where does Bob Stickler fit into the pattern of things?” “I don’t know,” replied Henry. “Why did he come here, I wonder. Look at that knot on his head! Judge, if he came here to help us, I’m sorry, but if he came to help the other team, I’m mighty glad for your pitching ability. Listen!” The canyon echoed with more shots. Henry scratched his head and squinted thoughtfully at Judge. By mutual consent they moved into the brush, where Judge picked and hefted another rock. “Or Slingshot Van Treece,” he said grimly. “I hit two of them,” said Henry. “Knowing how well you shoot,” said Judge, “I believe in miracles.” “I suppose the meeting is on now,” remarked Henry. “Mr. Akers is on his feet, extolling the virtues of Peter Gonyer. By the way, I wonder what became of James Wadsworth Longfellow Pelly?” “And Professor Fossil,” added Judge. Henry was staring into space, and now he gasped, “I have it!” “You--uh--have what?” whispered Judge. “Palaeozoic and Mesozoic,” whispered Henry. “There are no fossils in the Mesozoic.” Judge shook his head. “Probably just a slight recurrence of shock,” he said quietly. “You should have stayed in bed.” “He said he would have to determine, Judge. Ridiculous!” “You take the rock and let me have the gun, Henry.” “No, I--”