ded horse to keep fetlock deep in the water which swirled and sucked
about its legs. He was trying his hardest to hide his trail. Lower down
the hard, rocky ground extended to the water's edge, and if he could
delay his pursuers for an hour or so, he felt that, even with his tired
horse, he would have more than an even chance.

But they had gained more than he knew. Suddenly above him on the top of
the steep bluff across the torrent a man loomed up against the clouds,
peered intently into the arroyo, and then waved his sombrero to an
unseen companion. A puff of smoke flashed from his shoulder and streaked
away, the report of the shot lost in the gale. The fugitive's horse
reared and plunged into the deep water and with its rider was swept
rapidly towards the bend, the way they had come.

"That makes the fourth time I've missed that coyote!" angrily exclaimed
Hopalong as Red Connors joined him.

The other quickly raised his rifle and fired; and the horse, spilling
its rider out of the saddle, floated away tail first. The fugitive,
gripping his rifle, bobbed and whirled at the whim of the greedy water
as shots struck near him. Making a desperate effort, he staggered up the
bank and fell exhausted behind a boulder.

"Well, the coyote is afoot, anyhow," said Red, with great satisfaction.

"Yes; but how are we going to get to him?" asked Hopalong. "We can't get
the cayuses down here, an' we can't swim _that_ water without them. An'
if we could, he'd pot us easy."

"There's a way out of it somewhere," Red replied, disappearing over the
edge of the bluff to gamble with Fate.

"Hey! Come back here, you chump!" cried Hopalong, running forward.
"He'll get you, shore!"

"That's a chance I've got to take if I get him," was the reply.

A puff of smoke sailed from behind the boulder on the other bank and
Hopalong, kneeling for steadier aim, fired and then followed his friend.
Red was downstream casting at a rock across the torrent but the wind
toyed with the heavy, water-soaked _reata_ as though it were a string.
As Hopalong reached his side a piece of driftwood ducked under the water
and an angry humming sound died away downstream. As the report reached
their ears a jet of water spurted up into Red's face and he stepped back
involuntarily.

"He's so shaky," Hopalong remarked, looking back at the wreath of smoke
above the boulder. "I reckon I must have hit him harder than I thought
in Harlan's. Gee! He's wild as blazes!" h