see you--where you go down. Hurry on with the
horses and women. Lassiter, you go with them. And if Shadd passes me and
comes up with you--do your best.... I'm going to ambush that Piute and
his gang!"

"Shore you've picked out a good place," replied Lassiter.

In another moment Shefford was alone. He heard the light, soft pat and
slide of the hoofs of the mustangs as they went down. Presently that
sound ceased.

He looked at the red stain on his hands--from the blood of the girl he
loved. And he had to stifle a terrible wrath that shook his frame. In
regard to Shadd's pursuit, it had not been blood that he had feared, but
capture for Fay. He and Nas Ta Bega might have expected a shot if they
resisted, but to wound that unfortunate girl--it made a tiger out of
him. When he had stilled the emotions that weakened and shook him and
reached cold and implacable control of himself, he crawled under the
cedars to the rim and, well hidden, he watched and waited.

Shadd appeared to be slow for the first time since he had been sighted.
With keen eyes Shefford watched the corner where he and the others had
escaped from that murderous volley. But Shadd did not come.

The sun had lost its warmth and was tipping the lofty mesa to his
right. Soon twilight would make travel on those walls more perilous
and darkness would make it impossible. Shadd must hurry or abandon the
pursuit for that day. Shefford found himself grimly hopeful.

Suddenly he heard the click of hoofs. It came, faint yet clear, on the
still air. He glued his sight upon that corner where he expected the
pursuers to appear. More cracks of hoofs pierced his ear, clearer and
sharper this time. Presently he gathered that they could not possibly
come from beyond the corner he was watching. So he looked far to the
left of that place, seeing no one, then far to the right. Out over a
bulge of stone he caught sight of the bobbing head of a horse--then
another--and still another.

He was astounded. Shadd had gone below that place where the attack had
been made and he had come up this steep slope. More horses appeared--to
the number of eight. Shefford easily recognized a low, broad, squat
rider to be Shadd. Assuredly the Piute did not know this country.
Possibly, however, he had feared an ambush. But Shefford grew convinced
that Shadd had not expected an ambush, or at least did not fear it, and
had mistaken the Indian's course. Moreover, if he led his gang a few
rods farth