they see for, as Chip
suspected, it was only the reflection of a light that they had seen.
Evidently there must be someone behind that bulge. While they waited
breathless, there came a confirmation of their fears--or rather was it
their hopes?

"Blame me!" growled a heavy voice. "Why in sin won't she get afire?"

With one accord the two boys stood and stared--at each other. Finally Paul
leaned forward, whispering:

"Murky, Murky!"

Chip more composedly nodded; then he too whispered:

"We must slip up behind that thing. It's a rock, I reckon."

Paul said nothing but when Chip started, he did likewise.

"Step keerful," whispered Slider. "Don't let your feet make a noise when
you pull 'em out of the mud."

A low rumble of thunder muttered its way out of the west indicating more
rain. As if to emphasize the menace of this, they heard Murky cursing to
himself. He, too, was aware that further rain and storm boded no good to
himself.

More softly still the boys came gradually up under the shelving sides of a
great rock, that proved to be the termination of a chain of similar rocks
which abutted from a ridge of low hills off to the northeast.

Beyond, on the other side of this last big boulder, they could still hear
Murky--if it was Murky--renewing his attempts to make a fire. Under the
shelving sides the boys had some shelter. But from the brighter glare on
the other side they knew that the tramp had succeeded in starting his
fire. Was he any better protected from the increasing rain than they?

For quite a time the two crouched, blanket over their shoulders, while
the rain pattered harder and harder. Finally a slight shift of wind to
the westward caused the rain to beat in on them more. They were very
uncomfortable, squatting in the wet mould with their backs against the
damp rocks.

"See what I got?" Paul held up something that Chip cautiously felt.

"Where did you get that?" Chip was astonished.

"I knew we had one at the camp. But I thought it was lost. But today I
found it in one of our bags. When we started I managed to slip it into my
pocket. We're only two boys, and Murky is a grown man. Why, you've got
bruises on you now that he gave you--" Paul was showing a pistol.

"Hs-sh!" whispered Chip. "Not so loud. Lemme see that gun!"

"All right," and Paul passed it over. Chip looked at it closely. "I can't
tell yet if the chambers have any cartridges. We might need it."

By the mere feel of the thing th