right, a little way back from the next opening, a small
fair-haired girl was rapidly winding in on a miner's windlass. She
stopped to tug at a rope. The crane swung around into the entrance with
the saddle and rifles.

Carmena had already faced about to haul the ladder up the cliff. Lennon
caught hold with his left hand to help her. They had gathered in less
than ten yards when a bullet whizzed between their heads and splattered
on the stone wall at the rear of the room. Carmena hooked the ladder
over a peg at the side of the doorway and forcibly dragged Lennon out of
the opening.

Two more bullets whizzed in, one of them angling up close over the sill.
Had it come a moment sooner Lennon must have been struck. Carmena's hand
shook and her voice quavered, though she sought to speak in an
unconcerned tone:

"That's warmer than I expected at this stage of the game. Guess Cochise
is feeling pretty bad in his heart. We'll have to let him cool down
awhile."

"Why not return his compliments?" suggested Lennon. "We can easily pick
off both of the devils without exposing ourselves."

"And get the rest of the bunch down on us! No, Jack, they've got us
holed up. We might slip away before the others came but they'd make a
clean sweep of the stock and everything else. Come and meet Elsie.
Cochise will soon tire of wasting cartridges."

CHAPTER VI

HER FOLKS

The fair-haired girl was cowering behind the massive front wall of the
cliff house. At every shot from the rifles of the infuriated Apaches she
crouched lower. Carmena held out reassuring arms to her.

"There, there, Blossom," she soothed. "You've no need to be scared."

The trembler sprang to clasp the neck of the older girl.

"Oh, Mena, Mena!" she sobbed. "I'm so glad you're back! It's been awful!
Dad had one of his spells; and now, with Cochise angry----"

"We'll manage him--never fear. He's stopped shooting already. Quit your
shaking. I don't want Jack to think you a silly little rabbit."

For the first time the panic-stricken girl appeared to realize that
Lennon was a stranger. She lifted her head from Carmena's bosom to stare
at him with innocent childish wonderment. Her piquant little face was
flowerlike in its delicate contours and apricot tinting; her big blue
eyes were the pure intense blue of alpine forget-me-nots. No line of her
pretty face bore the slightest resemblance to Carmena's comely but
strong features.

"O-o-oh!" she voiced her ama