Now, it happened that Big Monte was not asleep, although he had seemed to be. The Mexican had not crept half the distance to Frank when the big man turned slightly, lifted his head, and watched. As the creeping wretch drew nearer to the sleeping youth the hand of Big Monte was gently thrust out from the folds of his blanket.
Pede reached Frank, and then arose to his knees. Suddenly he lifted above his head a deadly knife, which he meant to plunge into the breast of the unconscious sleeper.
At that instant a spout of fire leaped from something in the hand which Big Monte had thrust from beneath the blanket, and with the crashing report of the revolver Pede fell forward across the body of his intended victim, shot through the brain!
Frank was on his feet in an instant.
"What does this mean?" he cried, astounded, stirring the body of the Mexican with his foot.
"You gave me a gun," said Big Monte, "so that I might defend myself. It came in handy when I saw Pede gittin' keerless with his knife an' goin' fer to cut you up."
"Was that it?" exclaimed Frank. "Why, he was going to stab me! And you saved my life by shooting him!"
"Which mebbe makes us some nearer square than we was," said Monte, "as you saved my life a leetle time ago."