he explained. "But Slade isn't
hurt, and he hauled the ladder up. Cochise can't get us now."

"Not now," whispered Carmena. "But if Slade----"

Her low-pitched voice broke and hushed to a frightened silence.

Slade swaggered in from the anteroom and stood grinning as if very well
satisfied with what he saw.

CHAPTER XX

INTO THE FIRE

Carmena rallied and smiled up at the big trader with a show of trustful
confidence. "I knew you'd keep your part of the deal, Mr. Slade," she
said. "You've fought off Cochise and saved us, and there's a good big
hole in his bunch. All we need do now is wait for your punchers to come
in and wipe out the rest."

"Sure!" agreed Slade. "I done it. Now I got a dead cinch all 'round."

He drew his revolver and twirled the cylinder as if to make certain that
it had been fully reloaded.

"Yep--a dead cinch. With me up here, Cochise won't try no more pole
ladders. You and my Cookie Gal better hustle up some feed. Ain't had
nothing but bacon and flapjacks since I left."

Elsie fluttered across to light her charcoal brazier. But Carmena
lingered beside Lennon.

"Huh," muttered Slade. "Where'd sonny boy git hit? Ain't plunked bad, is
he?"

"Oh, no. I----"

"No, not fatal," Carmena broke in on Lennon's disclaimer of serious
injury. She gave Slade a significant side glance.

"No, I'm sure it won't prove fatal--just cut the bone a bit. Jack'll get
over it all right if he keeps perfectly quiet."

Slade's big face took on a look of solemn concern.

"Quiet--huh? Can't let him take no risks. He's worth ten thousand to me.
Here, you, Pete--and you----"

A guttural command in Navaho and a careless wave of the revolver brought
Pete and his wounded but still active companion hurrying forward.

Carmena sprang up and held out her arms to the trader. Lennon failed to
see her face. He saw only how Slade swept his left arm about the girl
and swung her around in a bearlike embrace. Lennon sought to leap up.
The Navahos seized him on either side and forced him down again.

He caught a glimpse of Carmena futilely clutching for Slade's throat.
The big man burst into a bellow of contemptuous laughter and flung her
from him.

"Bah!" he jeered. "What you bucking about? Don't figger I want _you_ any
more, do you?"

"No--no, of course not. I---- But Jack's head--If you hogtie him----"

"Got to be kept quiet, ain't he? You said it yourself. What you hanging
fire for, Pete?"

The heavy rev