"They've spotted the picks and shovels," he said. "I tried to cover 'em up best I could this mornin' but they've got eyes to bore through marble. The jig's up! We got to make a bolt for it. Make for the cave. Grab that bacon, I'll take the flour. Now!"
The chief's face had creased to the likeness of a thwarted devil. Then he gave a shout to the tribesmen lurking in the background. Two of the nearer Apaches grabbed for the line that held the burros but Harvey slashed that with his knife and pricked deeply the haunches of the beasts which went scampering and braying up-cañon. Larkin had caught hold of the rifle of the Indian nearest to him and wrested the weapon away with a quick spurt of strength. The chief, after his yell, swung to grapple Stone, one hand falling to his knife handle, his own rifle either lacking or left behind for the parley. Stone smashed him fairly on the jaw and Teozatl went tottering back, dazed and amazed. Healy was struggling in the hands of two of the savages. Harvey and Stone both jumped to his release. The whole thing happened with the celerity of a too-swiftly cranked motion-picture film. Stone got his fingers about one man's greasy throat, wrenching him loose as he saw Harvey stoop and straighten up again while the second man fell backward. Harvey had passed the blade, that he kept razor-sharp for slicing bacon, across the sinews of the Apache's legs, hamstringing him. Then he and Stone caught hold of Healy's arms, picked up his rifle and the food, and
