ght under the heavy ledge where he and Paul had been sheltered, prior
to Murky's attack, stood Murky himself, mud-slimed, gaunt, fierce, and
scowlingly savage.

"Ain't I never goin' to git rid of you?" he snapped, drawing menacingly
near. "You'll not dodge me this time!"

With this Murky lurched forward, his claw-like hand reaching forth.
Chip let out a yell of terror. He could not help it. The yell would
come, and it rang far-reaching, striking on Anderson's ear as the Swede,
having recovered, was crossing the ridge's backbone not so very far away.
That yell smote upon Paul not unlike the effect of an unexpected thunder
clap. But Paul recognized the voice. Chip was in trouble. He--Paul--was
not with him. Gripping his courage, he rushed on, rounding a bulge of
rock just in time to see Chip being dragged within that same recess
whence both Murky and Nels had emerged the night before, one to attack,
the other to rescue the two boys.

"Look here!" cried Paul, now more angry than ever, his fear of Murky quite
gone for the time being. "You let that boy alone! Hear me?"

Apparently the tramp did not, for he disappeared through the elbowed
recess still dragging the struggling Chip. Just then Paul stumbled and
was nearly thrown down by hitting a smooth, round rock with his foot.
Recovering, he picked up that rock and darted through the recess after
Murky with his captive. His other hand also found that pistol with which
he had clipped the robber's ear, and which Paul had hung onto, thinking
he might have a use for it. No cartridges were in it of course, but still
it was a weapon.

In one corner of that recess where the fire had been built Murky had young
Slider down and apparently was choking the life out of the lad. Without
a word Paul ran up, heaved the rock and, as luck would have it, struck
the robber fairly right over the head.

A less hard-headed man would have toppled over. But Murky was hard-headed
as well as hard-hearted. He reeled upon his knees and his clutch upon Chip
relaxed sufficiently to enable that thoroughly frightened youngster to
wriggle away on hands and knees while Murky was recovering.

The latter scrambled to his feet, his head smarting. Roaring, he lunged
at Paul, who darted back, his only real weapon gone and wondering what
to do next. More by instinct than anything he levelled the empty pistol at
the robber, shouting at the same time:

"Keep off--keep off! I--I'll shoot--"

But by this time