n to business. A little sigh of relief
escaped him at the sight of his enemies at last. He fired. The shot went
wide.

Natalie sank back in her corner, deathly pale; and with a hand over her
lips, to keep from crying out. Her part was harder than his.

He called down to her reassuringly. "All right! Only a try-out!"

Further down, a second figure showed briefly, scrambling up the
right-hand side of the trough. Garth fired--a fraction of a second too
late. He could scarcely credit such nimble agility in a figure so gross.
It was Grylls. Thus two of them were accounted for. Searching for the
third, he saw the black crown of a hat projecting above a stone on the
other side of the ravine. This was an easy shot; he aimed and fired with
a savage satisfaction. The hat disappeared; but again he knew, somehow,
that his bullet had not found its mark.

At the same moment Grylls won a rock a yard higher up. He was not coming
up the bottom of the ravine, but aiming obliquely up the side for the
trees high above. Garth, grimly covering his shelter, saw him bob his
head around; a bare, cropped, tousled head, like a hiding schoolboy's.
Quick as he was with the trigger, Grylls was quicker. The bullet
flattened itself harmlessly beyond.

As he shot there was a scramble across the ravine; and he saw the other
figure had mounted. The hat, Mabyn's hat, again showed; and he took
another shot at it. This time the bullet knocked it spinning off the
rifle barrel which upheld it; and in a flash Garth understood how neatly
they were fooling him. Each in turn drew his fire, while the other made
an advance. He resolved to shoot no more.

Meanwhile the first one he had glimpsed, which must be Mary, had not
moved from the middle of the ravine. Some of the stones were moved, and
he guessed she had made a permanent shelter there. There was a shot from
below, and the bullet spattered itself on the heavy base of rock.
Holding his hand, Garth awaited a second shot. He saw a tiny white puff
at last, and marked the aperture whence it issued. The bullet hurtled
whiningly overhead. Steadying his gun on the edge of the rock, he took
careful aim--but the other spoke first. It was a marvellous shot--or a
chance one. The bullet splintered the edge of the stone protecting
Garth's head, and sang off. A jagged sliver of stone ploughed across the
back of his extended hand. He exclaimed as in casual surprise, and his
gun exploded harmlessly in the air. He looked