"You must 'a' read that in that joke book what come with th' last bottle of liniment," derided Purdy. "Fine, healthy target a man would make if he didn't get over th' top in time! Lovely job! You must think he's a fool." "Don't be too sarcastic with him, Purdy," chuckled Fleming. "He does real well for a man that thinks with his feet." "You fellers make me tired!" muttered Holbrook in sudden decision as another rock flew into pieces on a bowlder and rattled through the brush. "I'd just as soon get shot on a good gamble as die from these whinin' leeches. I'm all bumps, an' every bump itches like blazes. I never thought there was so many of 'em on earth. You watch me go up there--an' cover me if you can. Jeer at him an' keep him up there heavin' rocks as long as you can." "Watch you?" grunted Purdy. "That's just what I'm aimin' to do. I'm aimin' to watch _you_ do it. We don't have to take chances like that. His grub will run out an' make him come down. Time is no object to us. We can afford to wait." "You can't do it, Frank," said Fleming, dogmatically, ducking low as another rock smashed itself to pieces against a bowlder. "Huh!" snorted Holbrook, picking up his rifle and departing. His friends chose their positions judiciously and shouted insults at the man on the butte; and after a few minutes they saw Holbrook, bent double, dart swiftly across a little open space, disappear into the brush and emerge into sight again, vague and shadowy, near the base of the wall a dozen yards below the end of the trail. He crept slowly over a patch of detritus which sloped up to the wall, and began his climb, which was not as easy a task as he had believed. The wall, eroded where rotting stone had crumbled away in layers, was a series of curving bulges, each capped by and ending in an out-thrust ledge. He forsook his rifle on the second ledge and went slowly, doggedly upward, but despite all his care to make no noise, he dislodged pebbles and chunks of rotten stone and shale which lay thick upon the rocky shelves. When half way up he paused to search out hand and foot holds and became suddenly enraged at the amount of time he was consuming; and he realized, uneasily, that he had heard no more crashing rocks. The knowledge sent caution to the winds and drove him at top speed, and it also robbed him of some of the jaunty assurance which had urged him to his task. Fear of the ridicule and the jeers of his sarcastic friends now became a more compelling motive than the hope of success; and he writhed and stretched, twisted, clawed, and scrambled upward with an angry, savage determination which he would have characterized as "bull-headed" in anyone else. Then another smashing rock revived his hopes and made him strain with renewed strength.