osed
head over the top of the wall that hid the Indians.

There was a howl of pain mingled with rage, that could be heard above
the din of the fighting.

"You nipped him!" cried Yellin' Kid.

"I tried to," grimly said Rolling Stone.

And so the fighting went on, in pot-shot fashion, with occasional
volleys from the Yaquis.

"They're only wasting their lead," spoke Captain Marshall. "But I
wonder where they got so many cartridges?"

"Likely they made another raid," suggested Snake.

This, later, was found to be the case. A store keeper had been killed
and his stock looted, provisions and arms being taken.

If the boy ranchers and their friends could have looked behind the
natural wall of rock, which constituted the fort that proved to be the
last stand of the Yaquis, and if they could have looked farther, into a
big cave, the mouth of which was concealed from a view below by this
same wall, their questions as to Rosemary and Floyd would have been
answered.

For the captives were there. Weary, apprehensive, tired and fairly ill
from their hardships, Rosemary and her brother had been thrust into the
cavern when the Yaquis reached this vantage place, knowing their
pursuers were close behind them.

"Something's up!" Floyd had said as they were rudely hustled into the
hiding place.

"I hope it's the end," said Rosemary dismally. Poor girl! She was
about done up, and she no longer had her weapon as a means of defence.
By a ruse it had been taken from her, though she and Floyd fought
desperately to retain it. But Mike, as one of his men snatched it
away, only laughed at them.

"The end! What do you mean?" asked Floyd.

"I mean I think this will be the last fight. You can tell by the way
they thrust us in here, and hurried out with their guns, that something
unusual is taking place. I believe our rescuers are coming!"

"That's what we thought when they sent us off in charge of Mike and the
smaller gang," observed Floyd.

"Yes, but this is different!" declared Rosemary. "They can't get out
of this place in a hurry, and once our friends, whether soldiers or
cowboys from Uncle Henry's ranch, get this far, they'll never give up
until they break through the Indians."

"If they only do!" murmured Floyd. He was cut and bruised from a fight
he had with two of the Yaquis, when he endeavored to go to the aid of
his sister, as her weapon was wrested from her. Floyd's left arm was
badly wrenched, so he coul