From the inner rooms on his right came back an angry bellow. "What the devil?"
Lennon twisted aside through a black doorway. Farther in he saw a glimmer of light. Sharp turns through two more doorways brought him into a kiva, or sacred chamber of the cliff dwellers, that was lighted by a pair of candles. Slade stood beside the broken-edged entrance hole with drawn revolver. The wounded Navaho was peering down from a hole in the ceiling.
"Elsie!" panted Lennon. "Hide her! Pete betrayed you! All the Apaches—coming up the ladder!"
Slade sprang sideways along the figure-decorated wall of the kiva. He leaped to grasp the edge of the ceiling hole. The Navaho helped him draw up into the dark room above. As his feet swung clear Lennon leaped in turn to grasp the edge of the hole.
"Give me a hand up," he called. "I'll help you defend Elsie."
"Sure. You'll serve for wolf bait," jeered Slade.
His big hand thrust down and tapped the butt of the heavy revolver on the top of Lennon's head.