Sam was placed on blankets in the cabin, and the two Overlanders worked over him until he regained consciousness. While they were doing this Two-gun Pete and Idaho, rifles in hands, skulked about outside, trying to discover the man who had fired the shot that got Sam. Not knowing what position the old guide was standing in when hit, they were unable to determine the direction from which the bullet had come, and were about to return to the cabin to see if Sam had come to, when Pete uttered a yell.
“Git down!” he shouted.
At the same instant, Idaho heard the report of a rifle and threw himself down. Pete was already on the ground, hat in hand, and looking at it ruefully. He held it up for his companion to see.
“Put er hole plumb through it,” he growled. “Thet miserable cayuse! I hope I git a squint at him over the sights of my rifle. But, man, he shore kin shoot!”
“Whar do ye think it come from?” asked Idaho Jones.
“From t’other side of the gulch. Must be usin’ a telescope rifle, for no man with open sights could make two shots like thet. He might do it once, but not twice. I call thet some shootin’. No wonder he got old Sam. Ye keep watch. I’m going in to tell the Dude an’ Cap’n Gray ’bout this heah,” announced Pete, making a run for the protection of the rocks about the cabin.
He found Sam awake. The Overlanders had heard the shot, and met Pete with a quick inquiry about it. Two-gun Pete exhibited his hat as the answer to their question.
“I come in to ask ’bout Sam. I reckoned as mebby you’d like to have somebody go down to the valley an’ git help fer him.”
“Not unless you wish to get away from here, which I don’t believe you do,” replied Tom Gray.
“I reckon I don’t—not onless it’s to save a pard’s life. Is he bad off—goin’ to pass in?”