"On the jump," he promised. "Don't go to sleep. If they should come it will be up through the boulder bed. I'm leavin' you here because you can watch from cover where you can't possibly be seen. It's different on the other side." She knew that, but as soon as he had left her the heart of the girl sank. She was alone, lost in a night of howling savages. The horrible things they did to their captives--she recalled a story whispered to her by a girl friend that it had been impossible to shake out of her mind. In the middle of the night she had more than once found herself sitting bolt upright in bed, wakened from terrible dreams of herself as a prisoner of the Apaches. 'Mona prayed, and found some comfort in her prayers. They were the frank, selfish petitions of a little child. "God, don't let me die. I'm so young, and so frightened. Send Daddy to save me ... or Jack Roberts." She recited the twenty-third Psalm aloud in a low voice. The fourth verse she went back to, repeating it several times. "'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.'" And the last verse: "'Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.'" Somehow she felt less lonely afterward. God was on her side. He would send her father or Jack Roberts. Then, into her newborn calm, there came a far cry of agony that shattered it instantly. Her taut nerves gave way like a broken bow-string. Her light body began to shake. She leaned against the cold rock wall in hysterical collapse. The voice of Dinsmore boomed along the passageway. "It's a cougar, girl. They've got a yell like the scream of lost souls. I've often heard it here." Ramona knew he was lying, but the sound of his cheerful voice was something. She was not utterly alone. Again that shriek lifted into the night and echoed up the canon. The girl covered her ears with her hands and trembled violently. A shot rang out from the other end of the passage. "Saw one of 'em movin' down below," the outlaw called to her. But Ramona did not hear him. She had fainted. CHAPTER XLI HOMING HEARTS Jack crept closer, very carefully. He was morally certain that the defenders held the ledge, but it would not do to make a mistake. Lives were at stake--one life much more precious than his own. He drew his revolver and snaked forward. There was nothing else to do but take a chance. But he meant at least to minimize it, and certainly not to let himself be captured alive. It was strange that nobody yet had challenged him. He was close enough now to peer into the darkness of the tunnel between the boulders and the wall. There seemed to be no one on guard. He crept forward to the last boulder, and his boot pressed against something soft lying on the ground. It moved. A white, startled face was lifted to his--a face that held only the darkness of despair.