guished. The other showed one wounded
and two dead Apaches lying upon the floor of the kiva. At the entrance
other attackers were stealthily thrusting in to fire at the hole in the
ceiling. The flash of answering shots spewed out of the black space
above the hole.

Lennon had enough presence of mind to lie still. Dislodged by the
fusillade of bullets, the dry materials of the ancient ceiling showered
upon him. In the room above he heard the shriek of a mortally struck
man. Another fusillade followed. Then a revolver came whirling down out
of the darkness.

The Apaches yelled and burst into the kiva. They rushed toward the hole,
firing upward as fast as they could pump their magazines. Unnoticed in
the excitement, Lennon rolled clear of their trampling feet and sought
to grasp Slade's fallen revolver. A chance kick sent it out of his
reach.

Wild with blood-thirst, the last Apaches were trying to climb up the
backs of those who had first leaped to seize the edge of the ceiling
hole. Under the strain of their jerking weight one of the ancient beams
gave way.

Down crashed a part of the floor above. With it came Slade, bellowing
with rage, bleeding from several wounds, and his right arm shattered.
His massive body fell upon and knocked down two of the crowding Apaches.
He staggered up and struck out with his maul-like fist.

The voice of Cochise sounded above the din of the fight. The Apaches
flung themselves at Slade like wolves attacking a maimed bull. But they
used neither rifles nor knives. The trader was borne down by the weight
of numbers and his left arm lashed fast to his backward twisted feet.

Cochise had caught up the flickering candle. He sprang upon the back of
another man and peered into the room above. When at last he jumped down
his face was distorted with anger. He shook his knife in Slade's face.

"Where you hide my woman?" he demanded.

"She hid herself," growled Slade. "I was still looking for her."

"Big mouth--big lie!" scoffed Cochise, and he thrust the flame of the
candle against Slade's nose.

The trader puffed out the light. Lennon had been edging around toward
the door. He took instant advantage of the darkness to slip out and run
toward the living room. There he might hope to find a rifle and die
fighting.

In the anteroom he came face to face with a pair of Apaches, who stood
on guard over Carmena. At their gestures, emphasized by half-raised
rifles, he backed into the corner besi