It was the redskin sentinel.
Frank glanced round without turning his head, but he could see nothing of Red Ben.
"Shoot, Ben—shoot him down!" panted Del Norte.
"Ben got him foul," was the assurance. "Him shoot you, Ben shoot him."
"Shoot first, you fool!" snarled the Mexican.
"No shoot 'less have to," was the retort. "Ben he no want hang for murder."
Frank realized that he was in a trap. Were he to fire at Del Norte it was almost certain the hidden redskin would shoot from cover. In his eagerness he had stepped into a bad snare. His wits worked swiftly to discover a manner in which he might extricate himself.
"Del Norte," he quickly said, "listen to me. We have met here face to face, and we are deadly enemies. The end of our enmity must be destruction for one of us. There can be no other end."
"You are the one, Señor Merriwell," declared Del Norte. "Had you shot me from cover you might have escaped. But now——"
"I never strike a foe from cover. We are face to face, and I propose that we settle our trouble man to man in combat. I challenge you to fight me."