Loath was he to leave his intrepid pal in the hands of the Indians. But he realized that should they tarry longer where they were, in the face of Tony's warning, the lives of all of them might be crushed out in a death more horrible than by bullets or torture--their bodies mashed to a pulp between the boulders hurled from the cliff and the rocky bottom of the canyon. "Stop firing! Back to the horses!" he roared. Amazed at this desertion of their comrade, the outlaws, nevertheless, obeyed. And scarcely had they moved from where they had been standing before another broadside of boulders was launched. "That was a close call," gasped Bud Noble. "It's a good thing we started when we did. But it don't seem right to leave Tony." "We're not going to leave him," snapped the world-famous desperado. "When we get back to the horses, I'm going to take Wild Bill and Texas and go after him." Anxious and excited were the two desperadoes who had been left in charge of the horses as they heard the sounds of conflict down the canyon. Ignorant of how, what they supposed was a battle, might have gone, when they caught sight of the forms running toward them, Frank challenged: "Who's coming? Halt or we'll fire!" "It's all right! Don't shoot!" returned Jesse. Relieved at finding the approaching figures were their comrades returning, Sam cried: "Have you got Tony?" But the world-famous desperado made no answer. "The rest of you wait here. Post sentries and keep your eyes and ears open. "Don't move from here till I get back. Come Bill. Come Texas." And, his two pals at his heels, Jesse started up the canyon in the direction from which they were coming when they had first seen the fires, bound for a break in the wall of rock he had noticed as he passed. But though he found it, because of the darkness, he was unable to make any headway, ignorant of the lay of the land as he was and, at last, he was forced to abandon his attempts to rescue Comanche Tony, deciding to wait till daylight should come. CHAPTER II. TIED TO THE STAKE. When Comanche Tony had glided from his companions at the bend of the canyon, little did he think what was in store for him. Stung to the quick by the unjustified slur of the brother of the bandit-chieftain, he was fiercely resentful, muttering to himself as he dodged from rock to rock. Silently, stealthily, the wily old bandit drew nearer and nearer to the fire. But he was labouring under a disadvantage that was to be his undoing. Constantly was he looking at the two fires as he advanced and their glare so blinded him that he was unable to see aught at either side of them. But the crouching forms that lurked in the shadows of the cliffs were not so handicapped because their backs were toward the flames. Warned by the echo of hoofbeats, as the outlaws rode down the canyon, the Indians had ample time to arrange their ambush. Who the travellers were, it mattered not to them.