“He-e-ey! What’s goin’ on up there?” came from one of the men.
“C’mon! That don’t sound good!”
Henry could hear the two men going up through the brush. He backed out and called to Judge. After a few moments he heard Judge say, “I just wanted to be sure they had really gone, sir. Are you all right, Henry?”
“The latest reports from outlying precincts,” replied Henry, “would indicate that I am not running too well. Who did you hit?”
“He is there at the top of the slope, where we were captured.”
Henry managed to climb up there, where Judge was looking down at his victim. Judge and Henry looked at each other, and Judge said blankly:
“Where does Bob Stickler fit into the pattern of things?”
“I don’t know,” replied Henry. “Why did he come here, I wonder. Look at that knot on his head! Judge, if he came here to help us, I’m sorry, but if he came to help the other team, I’m mighty glad for your pitching ability. Listen!”
The canyon echoed with more shots. Henry scratched his head and squinted thoughtfully at Judge. By mutual consent they moved into the brush, where Judge picked and hefted another rock.