“Mebbe those man what brought eet back to you, _señor_. He say the man what own eet be sure recognize heem by that snake.” “What’s that? What—what man?” Aaron babbled. “Those man what keel himself, _señor_. Johnny Dice mebbe dead; but me—Tony Madeiras—ees steel here! You go now.” Aaron was in no position to dispute this. Bent over, muttering strange words to himself, Gallup moved away, in his ears the mocking laughter of the Basque. Tony kept his word with Johnny. As soon as the moon came up he set the débris in motion again. Tons and tons of small rock cascaded down upon the mass already piled in the choked cañon, but it failed to uncover the body of the boy. It occurred to Madeiras, then, that Johnny might have crawled away some distance and be lying helpless further down the cañon. He called for the better part of ten minutes, but received no answer. Johnny Dice was not to be found. Hours later Gallup stumbled into Kent’s camp. Only Roddy and Tobias and one or two others remained. “You look as though you’d seen a ghost,” the sheriff remarked. “What in God’s name you been up to?” “Terrible trip,” Gallup moaned. “Too much for me.” “Ain’t you goin’ to hold an inquest?” “Inquest, hell!” Aaron snorted. “The man’s buried under a hundred ton of rock. The Basque was your deputy. That ends it as far as I’m concerned.” CHAPTER XXI TWO DEAD MEN For a dead man Johnny Dice was most active at that very moment. He was some five miles from the spot where Tony searched for his body. He was not alone. Some one else moved through the greasewood and sage ahead of him. Stealthily, too, Johnny felt. The two of them had been circling each other for some time. Both were anxious to avoid the other, but for this very reason, seemingly, their trails kept on crossing and recrossing. It was uncanny. Johnny thought he was being tracked. By innumerable little deductions he knew that no animal made those sounds which alternately retreated and advanced behind and before him. It was a man! Who? The boy strained his eyes to catch sight of moving shadow or strange object. He went unrewarded. It may have been that he was less cautious than usual. His mind was still blurred from the Basque’s shot. From the time Madeiras had appeared upon the tailings until the present moment, things had happened so quickly that Johnny could only grasp the essential facts. The boy knew that Tony had whispered: “Play dead!” The Basque’s every movement had been made to the gallery. The next instant his gun had flashed fire. Johnny’s fall had not been acted. Madeiras had given him only a scalp wound, but the impact had been sufficient to send the boy off his balance. The ride down the moving tailings had torn Johnny’s clothing to shreds, but had not so much as scratched his skin. The stunt under other circumstances would have been good sport.