But again the contemplation of the perilousness of his own plight was forgotten in the realization that his reckless attempt to warn his pals had been of no avail. For, in the brief interval that he had gazed on the edge of the ledge, he had seen several bucks frantically beating out the two fires with their blankets, and he knew that whatever their game, the world-famous desperado and his men would be in grave danger, forced, as they would be, to advance in the darkness. Yet had he been an instant later, he would have seen the same braves hurriedly scoop handfuls of dirt onto the glowing coals, after which they covered the piles with their blankets and bounded up the path to the ledge. On their arrival, a hasty pow-wow was held and the next minute Comanche Tony had learned the purpose of the irregular mass of black along the edge of the ledge. Lying flat on their bellies, the Indians braced their feet against the wall of rock and threw out their hands in front of them. A sickening fear gripped the heart of the bandit as he divined that the objects were stones to be hurled from the ledge. Wondering if he could warn his pals of the terrible fate awaiting them, Tony's eyes were drawn to the figure of an Indian standing clear of the others. Like a statue he loomed. All at once, he uttered an ear splitting yell. He had caught sight of a black line of objects moving in the canyon below. Immediately his braves joined in and as the strident warwhoops rent the air, the prostrate bucks exerted their strength and the first avalanche of stones was started on its mission of death. But that it was launched too soon, the reader already knows. The suspense to Tony, however, was awful as he strained his ears for the sound of his pals' voices. And as he heard their yells of defiance he heaved a mighty sigh of relief which ended in a grunt of delight as he saw the figure of the Indian lookout topple and pitch to the bottom even while the report of a pistol rang out. "That was Jesse's shot, I'll bet!" he chuckled. But his exultation vanished as he saw the bucks stretched out on the ledge move along to more stones. And then it was that, tempting Fate for the second time, he had shouted his warning to his pals to flee for their lives. Too late was it for the redskins to save their missiles as his cry rang out. But even as the boulders were hurtling to the bottom of the canyon, the braves leaped to their feet and charged him. So terrible was their anger, that they almost crushed the bandit as they pressed about him. "Have your fun if you want," grunted Comanche Tony. "I can't die but once. But it'll be the sorriest work you devils ever did if you do kill me!" The tone in which the fearless old Indian fighter uttered this defiance was as calm and cool as though he were talking to a group of children instead of to a pack of blood-thirsty savages.