The fire burned lower and lower and Johnny became suspicious. If the rustler on the other butte hoped to keep him engaged in snappy conversation when the fire grew low, there was no telling what the man in the canyon might do; so he crept to the top of the trail and peered down it, scanning the wall intently, half expecting to glimpse some swift, shadowy movement; but his alertness was not rewarded. "Wonder how long Hoppy or Red would loaf on a game like this," he grinned, "if they was down there! But there ain't many of their breed runnin' around." An hour passed and the fire was a mass of glowing embers, now and then relieved by a spasmodic burst of flame, which flickered up and died. Across the little clearing a shadowy form moved slowly backward, chuckling softly. If there were any more rustlers around, one of them certainly would have investigated why the fire was allowed to die; and Luke felt quite confident that he had accounted for all of them who were in the vicinity. Still, he argued, nothing was a certainty which depended upon circumstantial evidence, and he did not relax his caution as he moved away. Johnny, straining his eyes in trying to discover signs of enemies on the trail, suddenly stiffened, listening eagerly with every nerve taut. Again came the voice, barely audible. Moving to the outer edge of the butte he peered over cautiously, well knowing that he could see nothing. "'Tell Red his pants wear well,'" floated up to him out of the canyon. Johnny moved a little and leaned farther over after a glance at the black sky assured him that he would not be silhouetted for a marksman below. "'Does William, Junior, chew tobacco?'" persisted the whisper. Johnny wriggled back and sat bolt upright, incredulous, doubting his senses. "What th' devil!" he muttered. "Am I loco?" "'We was scared he'd die,'" continued the canyon. Taking another good look down the threatening trail, Johnny wriggled to the edge and again looked down. "'Pete paid Red th' eight dollars,'" said the chasm, a little louder and with a note of irritation. "Who th' devil are you?" demanded Johnny loudly. "Not so loud. Luke Tedrue," whispered the darkness. "How many of them skunks are around here?" "Yo're a liar!" retorted Johnny angrily. "An' a fool!" "Go to th' devil!" snapped the canyon. "Come around in daylight an' I'll send you to him!" growled Johnny. "Think I'm a fool?" There was no answer, and, fearful of a trick, Johnny wriggled back to his snug cover at the head of the trail, finding that the fire had become only a dull, red mass of embers which gave out almost no light. "You shore got me guessin'," he grumbled; "but I reckon mebby I'm guessin' purty good, at that. You just try it, cuss you!" Luke explored the canyon again to make assurance doubly sure, and again approached the great wall. "'Does William, Junior, chew tobacco?'" he demanded. Johnny squirmed, but remained where he was. "You can't fool me!" he shouted peevishly.