Yeager knew what to do, and he did it promptly. Sweeping Ruth back from the window, he clambered through himself and poised his body for the leap. The sentry looked up again, saw what was about to happen, and let out a startled scream at the same instant that he flung up an arm and fired. Steve felt a sharp sting in his leg as he descended through the air. He landed astride on the shoulders of the Mexican. The man went to earth, hammered down so hard that the breath was driven from his body. The arm of the range-rider rose and fell once. In his hand was the blue barrel of a revolver. The corrugated butt of the .45 had crashed into the thick matted hair of the Mexican. But it had done its work. Yeager rose quickly. The soldier lay still. Already Ruth was coming down the swaying ladder. She dropped the last few rounds with a rush, plump into the arms of Steve. "Let us hurry--hurry," she cried. It was time to be gone, if not too late. Already men were converging upon them from different sides. Others were bawling orders for soldiers to turn out. Steve went down almost as quickly as he had risen. His leg had given way unexpectedly. Before he reached his feet again his revolver was out and doing business. "Fire at their legs, Frank. All we want to do is to stop them. Ruth, you run ahead, straight for the trees. We'll be with you in a minute," Yeager gave orders quietly. The girl flashed one look at him, found assurance in his strong, lean face, and obeyed without a word. Farrar's rifle was already scattering bullets rather wildly into the night. Lead spattered against the adobe wall behind them. But the attackers were checked. Their fire was of a desultory character. There was such a thing as being too impetuous. Who were these men they were assailing? Perhaps they were acting under orders of Pasquale. Better not be too rash. So the mind of the peon soldiers decided. As soon as Ruth had reached the shelter of the grove her friends moved to join her. They were halfway across the open when the cowpuncher plunged to the ground again. The camera man turned and ran back to him. "What is it, Steve? Have they hit you?" he asked anxiously. "Plugged a pill into my laig as I took the elevator down from the second story. Gimme a hand up." Frank put an arm around his waist as a support and they reached cover just as the leg failed for a third time. Yeager crawled forward a few yards on his knees into the underbrush. Soft arms slid around his neck and shoulder as someone plumped down beside him. "You're wounded. You've been shot," Ruth breathed tremulously. "Yes," assented Yeager. "Hand me your rifle, Frank." They exchanged weapons. Steve had already made up his mind exactly what was best to do. "I'm going to stay here awhile and hold them back. You go on with Ruth, Frank. Leave a horse for me. I'll be along later," he explained. "We're not going away to leave you here," protested Ruth indignantly.