behind them. The young man watched first one, then the other, as
tireless and vigilant as if he had not been awake for twenty-four
hours.

It was the dugout that first started from its night's repose.
Before the sun showed itself over the rim of the prairie, long
before its rays darted over the distant mountain-crest, the door
was thrown away from the casing, and a great uncouth man, strong as
a giant, and wild of aspect as a savage, strode forth, gun in hand,
his eyes sweeping the landscape in quick flashing glances. Almost
instantly he discovered the figure perched on the granite block
overlooking his retreat. He raised his gun to his shoulder.

The young man fell sidewise behind the rocks and a bullet clipped
the edge of his barricade. Remaining supine, he fastened his
handkerchief to the end of his whip and waved it above the rampart.
Having thus manifested his peaceful intent, he rose, still holding
the flag of truce above his head, and remained motionless. Brick
Willock stared at him for a moment in hostile indecision, then
strode forward. At the same time, an old man, thin, tall and
white-haired, issued from the dugout evidently attracted by the
gunshot; and soon after, the cabin door opened, and the girl of the
cove looked out inquiringly.

In the meantime the young man slowly descended the hill to the oval
valley, while Willock hurried forward to meet him.

"Don't you come no futher!" Willock commanded, threatening with his
gun. "Keep your hands above your head until I can ship your cargo."