across his knees. The man must climb over the ledge; there would
be a bare, level floor of rock between them-the Lewallen would be
at his mercy-and Rome, with straining eyes, waited. There was a
footfall on the other side of the ledge; a soft clink of metal against
stone. The Lewallen was climbing slowly-slowly. Rome could hear
his heavy breathing. A grimy hand slipped over the sharp comb of
the ledge; another appeared, clinched about a Winchester-then the
slouched hat, and under it the dark, crafty face of young Jasper.
Rome sat like the stone before him, with a half-smile on his lips.
Jasper peered about with the sly caution of a fox, and his face grew
puzzled and chagrined as he looked at the cliffs above him.

"Stop thar!"

He was drawing himself over the ledge, and the low, stern voice
startled him, as a knife might have done, thrust suddenly from the
empty air at his breast. Rome rose upright against the cliff, with
his resolute face against the stock of a Winchester.

"Drap that gun!"

The order was given along Stetson's barrel, and the weapon was
dropped, the steel ringing on the stone floor. Rome lowered his
gun to the hollow of his arm, and the two young leaders faced each
other for the first time in the life of either.

Seem kinder s'prised to see me," said the Stetson, grimly. " Hev ye
got a pistol?

Young Jasper glared at him in helpless ferocity.