Frank seemed to be feeling for something or other, perhaps a stone; whatever it was, he had evidently succeeded in finding it, for he immediately straightened up, and Bob knew that his arm was swinging for a cast.
Then came a crash as the stone landed in a thicket some thirty feet below. Instantly there was a bright flash, and the report of a pistol. The crouching fugitive had discharged his weapon, aiming at the spot where he believed one of his pursuers was located.
A second and a third shot followed as fast as he could pull the trigger. Bob heard his chum chuckle as though greatly pleased. This was some more of that woodcraft which played so great a part in the education of a boy born and raised in the West.
They knew now exactly where the fellow was located. That was one good thing. Perhaps another was the fact that he had exhausted half the contents of his revolver.
Bob knew that Frank was stooping again. He must be so well satisfied with the result of his first test, that he wanted to make another try.
When he felt his chum rise up again, the Kentucky boy knew what to expect. And this time, if anything, the crash in the bushes was louder than before. The stone had been adroitly cast, so that it should fall a little further on.
Apparently Frank had carried out his little scheme so well that it completely deceived the man in hiding. He must have thought that while his enemy may have escaped serious injury in that first volley, he was now in full retreat.
So the hidden one began again to pull the trigger, and three shots rang out in rapid succession.
Then a silence fell upon the side of the foothills!
Bob heard Frank laugh softly to himself as though quite pleased over the success of his scheme.