a long stab of light pierced the dusk and the round detonation of
old-fashioned black powder shook the silence. There came to us the
babbling of voices released. At the same instant the newly risen moon
plastered us against that whitewashed wall like insects pinned in a
cork-lined case. The moonlight must have been visibly creeping down to
us for some few minutes, but so absorbed had I been in the doings of the
party in the willows, and so chuckleheaded were the two on the roof,
that actually none of us had noticed!

I dropped flat and dragged the girl down with me. But there remained
that ridiculous, plainly visible rope; and anyway a shout relieved me of
any doubt as to whether we had been seen. Brower came tumbling down on
us, and with one accord we three doubled to the right around the walls
of the ranch. A revolver shot sang by us, but we were not immediately
pursued. Our antagonists were too few and too uncertain of our numbers
and arms.

It was up to us to utilize the few minutes before the ranch should be
aroused. We doubled back through the willows and across the mesquite
flat toward the lone Joshua-tree where I had left my horse. I held the
girl's hand to help her when she stumbled, while Brower scuttled along
with surprising endurance for a dope wreck. Nobody said anything, but
saved their wind.

"Where's Tim?" I asked at a check when we had to scramble across a
_barranca_.

"He went back into the ranch the way we came," replied Artie with some
bitterness.