Slipping into one of the excavations so that he could see what was going on below without exposing himself, Sam called down:
"Frank Shirley, my father never sent you to find me."
"What! do you think Mr. Shirley's a-lyin'?" shouted Badger, at the same time unstringing his rifle and assuming a position as if about to fire.
"Yes, I do," said Sam boldly.
Badger would have fired, though Sam was out of sight had not Shirley laid his hand on his arm and said pleadingly:
"Don't do that, Badger; you'll spill all the fat in the fire. That young fellow has a rifle, and he knows how to use it."
Sam heard all this distinctly and he called out:
"Yes, and I will use it if you fellows don't get back and mount your horses while I count ten. One, two, three, four——"
Neither Shirley nor Badger waited to hear more, for as "one" was called out they saw the muzzle of a rifle pointing down at them from the top of the rock.
With the alacrity of acrobats the two men scrambled into their saddles, and as they did so the word "Two!" rang out.