The boys called off the pups and headed across the flat, hoping that the men would succeed in turning the coyote. Then little puffs of white smoke came from the Arizonans. They could not hear the rifle shots, but they saw the coyote turn, bewildered, heading down their way in what looked like an easy lope. He saw them start their ponies into a gallop and again turned like a flash, evidently intending to cross the sage between the two parties. Pepper rose on his hind legs, got a sight of the coyote, and started in long bounds over the sage, with Lee and Bourbon at his heels. “Now!” gritted Sid. “Head him off, Scotty!” They raced across the coyote’s line. He was coming like the wind. Sid hauled Pinto up abruptly on his haunches and aimed his long-barreled Officer’s Model carefully. A spurt of dust sprang up just in front of the coyote. Sid held the round white bead, well down in its notch, just ahead of the flying, twisting animal, swung two yards ahead and fired. The coyote slid to his haunches, snapping savagely at a wound in his side, and then Pepper, Lee and Bourbon fell on him in a riot of howls and barks. Sid whooped with joy as they rode down. This was fine medicine for those houn’-dawg pups! It was impossible to shoot; the whirling mass of black, tan and gray was too swift and intricate to risk a shot into it. Came a rapid clatter of paws and a great, deep-voiced bray, as Ruler charged down the slope and pitched headlong into the fray. Out of it rose the coyote, borne aloft by the great bony jaws of Ruler about his throat. There was a savage shake, a worrying and growling from the pups, and then Red Jake clattered up, leaped off his pony, booted the dogs aside and finished the gasping coyote with a single revolver shot as it lay on its side. “That’s the stuff!” yelled Colonel Colvin, galloping up on the roan. “Mind the dogs--they’ll be at each other next--they’re wild with fight!” He had scarcely spoken before Pepper flew jealously at Ruler with bared fangs, while Bourbon turned and pitched into Lee where he was worrying gleefully at the carcass. The boys dismounted with howls of laughter and grabbed the belligerents by their collars. “Some pups, Dad! Hang on to him, Scotty!” laughed Sid, slinging Bourbon into the sage and aiming a kick at Lee. “First trophy of the desert, fellers!” “Nice li’l pasear,” remarked Red Jake, wiping the sweat from under his sombrero. “You-all want the hide off this-yere?” he asked, looking to the Colonel for orders. “You bet! How far is it yet to the ranch, Jake?” The Arizonan puckered up his eyes as he scanned the far horizon where the colored buttes back of Hinchman’s loomed up. “Oh, ’bout eleven miles, I reckon,” he decided. Sid and Scotty stared unbelievingly. Why, those red mountains _couldn’t_ be over five miles off! Their knees ached from the unaccustomed saddle strains, but distances were deceiving in the desert and there was an hour more of riding yet.