At the left there was a ridge of bare rock, and it seemed that the trail led along the underside of it.
“This must be right,” he argued to himself. “By daylight a horse would get down here easily enough. It’s the right general direction, anyway, and I’ll chance it.”
Putting his hands on the bare rock at his left to steady himself, he went slowly down.
It was not a high ledge, and he had come, as he thought, about to the bottom, when there was a slight noise behind and almost overhead that startled him.
His revolver was in his hand instantly.
There was a blinding flash not ten feet in front of him and a deafening report.
Swish! went a bullet past his face.
Then there was a blood-curdling scream in the air above, and the detective fell flat under a heavy body.