"Dem feller pull out," growled Laguerre. "While I was try for feex my Winchestair dey spleet un go two way. Dey behin' de nex' heel now. Dey tak' our pony too, ---- 'em." "Set us afoot, huh? That's nice. Couldn't have a better place to surround us in, neither. No cover this side. Let's cross the draw. There's somethin' that looks like rocks over there." Driving Marvin ahead of them they crossed the draw at a brisk trot and climbed the opposite slope. Loudon had not been mistaken. There were rocks on the ground beyond. From the edge of the draw the land fell away in a three-mile sweep to the foot of a low hill. Loudon grinned. "They can't Injun up on us from this side," he said. "We'll stand 'em off all right." Swiftly they filled in with rocks the space between two fair-sized boulders. Then they tied the wretched Marvin's ankles and rolled him over on his face behind their tiny breastwork. "I don't think any lead'll come through," said Loudon, cheerfully. "It looks pretty solid. But it would shore be a joke if one o' yore friend's bullets should sift through yuh, Marvin, now wouldn't it?" Leaving Marvin to discover, if Providence so willed, the point of the joke, Loudon picked up his rifle and lay down behind the smallest boulder. Laguerre, lying on his side, was working at his jammed breech action. He worried the shell out at last, and took his place. Loudon saw Laguerre put a small pebble in his mouth, and he frowned. Not till then had he realized that he was thirsty. He followed Laguerre's example. Pack-saddle Creek was close by, and it might as well have been distant a hundred miles. The thought made Loudon twice as thirsty, in spite of the pebble rolling under his tongue. Far down the draw, on Loudon's side of the breastwork, two riders appeared. "Two of 'em in sight, Telescope," said Loudon. "See any?" "Me, no. What dey do, dem two?" "They're crossin' the draw. Now they're climbin' up. They think we're still where we was. Hope they come right along." The two riders galloped toward the boulders. Loudon and Laguerre, flattening their bodies, squeezed close to the rock. When the galloping pair were three quarters of a mile distant they halted. "They don't just like the looks o' these rocks," observed Loudon. "Well, they give us credit o' havin' sense, anyway." The two horsemen began to circle. Loudon settled himself and squinted along his sights. His finger dragged on the trigger. It was a long shot, and he missed. The two men immediately separated. One rode back over the way they had come. The other galloped out a mile and a half, then turned and rode parallel to the draw. Opposite the rear of the breastwork he halted.