rembling, and he disgraced himself by
half-hysterically grabbing Sally and demanding to know if she was hurt,
and raging at her for exposing herself to fire, while his throat tried
to close and shut off his breath from horror.

There came loud pop-pop-popping noises. With the peculiar reverberation
of sound over water, two motorcycles started from the powerhouse along
the crest of the dam. They streaked for the shore carrying five men, one
of whom was the Chief, with a red-checked tablecloth about his middle,
brandishing a fire axe in default of other weapons.

The danger was over.

But the assassins couldn't be followed immediately. They still had at
least two pistols. Eight men and a girl, counting Mike, with an armament
of only two pistols, a .22 rifle, two shotguns and a fire axe were not a
properly equipped posse to hunt down killers. Also by now it was close
to sunset.

So the victors did the sensible thing. Joe and Sally and Haney and the
Chief--his clothes retrieved--plus Mike headed back for Bootstrap. Joe
and Sally rode in the Major's black car, and the other three in the
jalopy they'd rented for the afternoon. On the way into the canyon below
the dam, they stopped at the parked car their would-be assassins had
come in. They removed its distributor and fan belt. The other men
returned to the powerhouse with their shotguns and the fire axe, and
telephoned to Bootstrap. The three gunmen who had planned murder became
fugitives, with no means of transportation but their legs. They had a
good many thousand square miles of territory to hide in, but it wasn't
likely that they had food or any competence to find it in the wilds. Two
were certainly hurt. With dogs and planes and organization, it should be
possible to catch them handily, come morning.

So Joe and Sally drove back to Bootstrap with the other car following
closely through all the miles that had to be covered in the dark.
Halfway back, they met a grim search party in cars, heading for the dam
to begin their man hunt in the morning. After that, Joe felt better. But
his teeth still tended to chatter every time he thought of Sally's
startled, scared expression as she pulled away a lock of her hair that
had been severed by a bullet.

When they got back to the Shed, Major Holt looked tired and old. Sally
explained breathlessly that her danger was her own fault. Joe'd thought
she was safely under cover....

"It was my fault," said the Major detachedly. "I