At Bay
is th' only way he can come down. Two of us out here is plenty, takin' turns watchin' th' trail. An' if you keep a fire burnin' you both could almost sleep nights. He'd never tackle it. Purdy, you an' Art clear out for th' ranch at daylight. Me an' Holbrook will stay here tomorrow an' tomorrow night, when you fellers can relieve us. I'd feel better, anyhow, if there was somebody besides Ben an' th' cook in them houses. You can't tell what might happen. It'll be light in an hour, so I'll go over an' start some breakfast."
"Say, Tom," said Fleming. "Make yore camp up on th' other Twin, an' get out of this cussed hole with its heat an' its pests. Th' man off guard could get a real sleep up there. But, of course, you'll have to do th' cookin' down here, where there's water handy."
"See about that later," answered Quigley. "Anyhow, we can sleep up there without shiftin' th' camp," and he disappeared in the darkness.
Fleming rolled a cigarette by sense of touch and thoughtlessly struck a match. Spang! said a bowlder at his side. Ping-ing-ing-g-g! sang the ricochet down the canyon.
"Put it out!" yelled Holbrook, diving for cover.
"You d—d fool!" sputtered Purdy from behind a pile of rocks.
"Beats all how careless a feller will get," laughed Fleming as he slid behind a rock. "I plumb forgot!"
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