"Halt, or you're a dead man!"
It was a stern command, in a rough voice.
The Bradys paused near some rocks and saw two rifle barrels aimed over the top of them, in the hands of two masked men.
Hearing the voice, Johnson had come to a sudden stop and glanced around.
Just as the detectives were about to reach for the revolvers they carried, the same rough voice sang out, quickly:
"Hands up!"
The sharp click of the rifle hammers followed.
It would have been sheer folly to disobey that command, for the masked men had a bead drawn on the officers.
In that lonely place no one would know they got killed.
They felt chagrined over the careless way in which they walked right into the ambuscade, and raised their hands.