comin' and I fanned it up here to tell you. I reckon we kin lick the
hull of 'em. I got plenty cartridges."

Despite the danger, old man Annersley smiled as he choked back a word
of appreciation for Pete's stubborn loyalty and grit. When he spoke
again Pete at once caught the change in tone.

"You keep away from the window," said Annersley. "Them coyotes out
there 'most like aim to rush me when the blaze dies down. Reckon
they'll risk settin' fire to the cabin. I don't want to kill
nobody--but--you keep back--and if they git me, you stay right still in
here. They won't hurt you."

"Not if I git a bead on any of 'em!" said Young Pete, taking courage
from his pop's presence. "Did you shoot any of 'em yet, pop?"

"I reckon not. I cut loose onct or twict, to scare 'em off. You keep
away from the window."

Young Pete had crept to the window and was gazing out at the sinking
flames. "Say, ain't we pardners?" he queried irritably. "You said we
was when you brung me up here. And pardners stick, don't they? I
reckon if it was my shack that was gittin' rushed, you 'd stick, and
not go bellyin' under the bunk and hidin' like a dog-gone prairie-dog."

[Illustration: "Say, ain't we pardners?"]

"That's all right," said Annersley. "But there's no use takin'
chances. You keep back till we find out what they're goin' to do next."