He raised his revolver to shoot into the air, but even before his finger touched the trigger, a pistol shot resounded from down the canyon and its echoes rolled and rumbled between the walls. An instant later they saw the smoke curling upward and dissolving in the still, clear air, perhaps half way toward the canyon's mouth. But they could see no sign of man, nor of any moving thing in its vicinity. They hurried on, cautiously watching the walls and the canyon in front of them, and now and then turning for a quick backward glance, to guard against attack in the rear. As they neared the point from which the smoke had risen, they saw that one of the narrow, deep chasms in the mountain side opened there, with a wide, gaping mouth, into the canyon. A mound of debris was heaped in front. Stepping softly, they peered around the pile of rocks and saw, lying in the mouth of the chasm, a man with a revolver gripped in his right hand. Blood stained his clothing and ran out over the rocks and sand. He was a tall man with a short, bushy, iron-gray beard covering his face. Tuttle and Ellhorn covered him with their revolvers and walked to his side. He put up a feeble, protesting hand. "It's all right, strangers. You've nothing to fear from me. I'll be dead in ten minutes." "Who killed you?" "Was it the two ornery scrubs we're after?" "I've put the last shot in myself. If you'd been half an hour earlier I might have had a chance." "What's the matter? What's happened? Tom, give him a drink out of the flask." "No, give me water," said the man. "I emptied my canteen this morning." Nick lifted his head and Tom held their canteen to his lips. He drank deeply, and as he lay down again he looked at Tom curiously. "Two days ago I had a fight with two men, and I've been lying here ever since. They did me up, so that I knew I'd got to die if no help came. And I knew that was just about as likely as a snowstorm, but I couldn't help bankin' on the possibility. So I laid here two days and threw rocks at the coyote that came and sat on that heap of stones and waited for me to die. This morning I drank the last of the water and I said to myself that if nobody came by the time the sun was straight above that peak yonder I'd put a bullet into my heart. I had two left, and I used one on the coyote that had been a-settin' on that rock watchin' me the whole morning. I was bound he shouldn't pick my bones, he'd been so sassy and so sure about it. You'll find his carcass down the canyon a ways. That tired my arm and I waited and rested a spell before I tried it on myself. But I was weaker than I thought and I couldn't hold the gun steady, and the bullet didn't go where I meant it to. But I'm bleedin' to death." "The two men--what became of them? I reckon they're the ones we're lookin' for!" exclaimed Nick. "Are you? Well, I guess you'll find 'em scattered down the canyon, or else up there," and he pointed to the mountain side above. "They couldn't get very far."