With an oath, the aged scout leaped upon the ranchman to drag him down—but he was too late!
No sooner had Hawks’ head appeared above the grass than a rifle barked!
“By thunder! He’s got me!” cried the owner of the Star and Moon, clapping his hand to his left shoulder.
“Serves you good and plenty right!” retorted Bowser.
“Paleface more fool than coyote!” snarled Nig. “Now we no get to catacombs till night.”
“Why not?” asked Sandy.
“Cause Louie stay on watch.”
But if the avengers were balked in their advance upon the murdering Indian they had the satisfaction of knowing that he could not escape without running the gauntlet of their fire because the tiers of tombs had been hollowed from a cliff and only extended three rows in.
Cursing the ranchman openly and under their breath, the cowboys made themselves as comfortable as they could and prepared to await the coming of darkness, their guns ever at a ready, however, to pump a shot into their quarry should he show himself.
Once or twice, Nig wormed his way forward, then raised a bunch of grass suddenly, to learn whether or not his arch-enemy was on watch. And each time a bullet ripped it to pieces.