rifle muzzle projecting
between two medium-sized stones near the base of the large rock, his
eye trained along the barrel, watching the crest of the hill on which
the men were concealed.

The first man was dead. Sanderson could see him, prone, motionless,
rigid.

Evidently the two men were doubtful. Certainly they were cautious.
But at the end of an hour their curiosity must have conquered them, for
Sanderson, still alert and watchful, saw a dark blot slowly appear from
around the bulging side of a rock.

The blot grew slowly larger, until Sanderson saw that it appeared to be
the crown of a hat. That it was a hat he made certain after a few
seconds of intent scrutiny; and that it was a hat without any head in
it he was also convinced, for he held his fire. An instant later the
hat was withdrawn. Then it came out again, and was held there for
several seconds.

Sanderson grinned. "I reckon they think I'm a yearlin'," was his
mental comment.

There was another long wait. Sanderson could picture the two men
arguing the question that must deeply concern them: "Which shall be the
first to show himself?"

"I'd bet a million they're drawin' straws," grinned Sanderson.

Whether that method decided the question Sanderson never knew. He
knew, however, that a hat was slowly coming into view around a side of
the rock, and he was positive that this time there was a head in the
hat. He could not have told now he knew there was a head in the hat,
but that was his conviction.

The hat appeared slowly, gradually taking on definite shape in
Sanderson's eyes, until, with a cold grin, he noted some brown flesh
beneath it, and a section of dark beard.

Sanderson did not fire, then. The full head followed the hat, then
came a man's shoulders. Nothing happened. The man stepped from behind
the rock and stood out in full view. Still nothing happened.

The man grinned.

"I reckon we got him, Cal," he said. His voice was gloating. "I
reckoned I'd got him; he tumbled sorta offish--like it had got him in
the guts. That's what I aimed for, anyway. I reckon he done suffered
some, eh?" He guffawed, loudly.

Then the other man appeared. He, too, was grinning.

"I reckon we'll go see. If you got him where you said you got him, I
reckon he done a lot of squirmin'. Been followin' us--you reckon?"

They descended the slope of the hill, still talking. Evidently,
Sanderson's silence had completely convinced them that