CHAPTER XVI
UNSEEN ENEMIES
The amazing uproar lasted only for seconds, and then intense silence once more settled over the palisade. There was no one in sight, and Dexter could not imagine what calamitous events were taking place on the other side of the cliff. But as his glance swept back and forth along the brink of the precipice, the momentary quiet was suddenly shattered by a second shot.
In a flash he stooped to grasp his pistol. "I'm going up," he announced, and hurriedly belted his holster about his waist. "You stay here, Alison, and I'll come back for you when I can."
Without waiting for her reply, he set his foot in the nearest cranny and started to clamber onward. The remaining distance was not far, and he went up in a rush and scrambled over the final escarpment. He reached the top, and crouched warily on the brink of the cliff to survey the open ground beyond.
The plateau dipped back for a mile or more to the base of the ringing mountain peaks, and on the snow-sheeted meadow were outlined the figures of two men. One was a couple of hundred yards away, running as fast as legs would fly, heading for a distant cedar thicket and the notch that gave exit towards the northern end of the valley below. Nearer the cliff top another man was standing, with pistol in hand. The second intruder, short and stocky in build, was clad in the tunic of the mounted police. Dexter observed the silhouette of his broad back, and laughed aloud.
"Hello, colonel!" he called.
The thick-set figure swung around to stare dumbly at the man on the crest behind him. "Dexter!" he blurted out in astonishment.
"By the way the other fellow keeps on going, I should judge that you're not shooting as well as you used to," remarked the corporal blandly.
"I just pitched a couple across his bows, as they say, hoping he'd halt," explained Devreaux. "Rather take him back alive if I can. If I know a pink complexion, that man's Crill."
"Unquestionably," agreed the corporal, his glance following the fleeing outlaw. The man was out of pistol range, still plowing up the snow as he sprinted for the shelter of the timber. "A person with a double chin should know better than to overexert himself," Dexter resumed calmly. "He'll drop in his track by the time he reaches the notch."