The horses, which were jaded from their long drive over the rocks, came toiling up the zig-zag trail, and the posse let them pass; but as the two Texans who were driving them came up with the drag they sensed mischief and dashed back down the hill. Lead slugs and explosive bullets struck the ground up all about them, and as they forded the creek the Bassetts took after them while the others rounded up the horses. "Them's Mormon horses," declared Meshackatee, after they had stopped them on a flat, "I know about half of them brands. We'll jest hold 'em a while and see who shows up--may git some of these Texicans yet." They went back to their lookout, leaving the horses to graze; and almost immediately Bill and Winchester appeared, riding low and spurring like mad. "Injuns!" they yelled, as they scrambled up the point and dropped down behind their rocks. "Apaches, as sure as hell!" "Where at?" demanded Meshackatee. "Them A-paches ain't on the war-path, and hain't been since the 'Pache Kid." "Well, all right," panted Bill, "but I'll bet ye we seen twenty. And when we run across 'em they chased us." "There they are!" said Winchester, pointing to a string of half-naked horsemen, "and if them ain't Apaches, I'm a liar." "Leave 'em to me!" swaggered Meshackatee, "because that's where I shine. We'll try 'em with a little sign-talk." He stepped out on the point where he could be seen plainly from below and raised his right hand in the peace sign. "Wahoo!" he bellowed, "Wahoo Meshackatee!" But the Indians only circled and stared at him. They were savage looking creatures, with their long black hair bound back out of their eyes with red handkerchiefs; but after a second look Meshackatee ripped out an oath and came striding back to the posse. "Aw, hell!" he exclaimed, "them ain't no Injuns. It's nothing but a passel of white men." "How do you know?" demanded Bill. "Jest because they don't savvy your sign-language----" "Aw, cripes; I know an Injun!" burst out Meshackatee indignantly. "I can tell 'em by the way they set a horse. We'll try 'em with a little U.S.A." He stepped out on the point and hailed them again, and a man rode out from the rest. He was mounted on a mule and the minute he saw him McIvor knew it was Grimes. It was not the mule alone, it was the thrust of his head and the handy way he carried his rifle. "Hello there!" shouted Hall, stepping out on a rock, and Grimes stopped his mule and looked up. "Don't know you!" he announced, "but dam' your black hearts, we've come to git back our horses!" "That's Grimes--the sheepman," explained Hall over his shoulder, and Meshackatee stepped down behind a rock. "You talk to him," he grumbled. "I got no use for a sheepman." And Winchester and Bill nodded assent. "Yes, sure it's Grimes!" yelled the pseudo Indian, "but who in damnation are you?" "My name is Hall," answered McIvor shortly. "I met you down at the Bassetts'!"