Marion colored slightly.
“They’re the wisest of animals,” declared Sleepy.
Came the sharp thud of a blow, as if something had struck the burro with a heavy impact, and the ancient animal dropped as if its legs had been suddenly yanked from under its body. In fact, its fall was so sudden that Marion jerked forward, lost her balance, and fell sprawling across its neck.
And as she fell, from somewhere back in the hills, came the report of a rifle shot. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that no one moved for a moment. Then Hashknife flung himself forward, grasped Marion in his arms and ran back to the shelter of the bunk-house, with Sleepy and Jimmy following.
They stopped against the bunk-house door, staring at each other. Marion was dazed but unhurt.
“What was it?” she asked.
“Yo’re not hurt?” asked Hashknife anxiously.
“I’m not hurt. I—I just fell down. But what—”
“Good gosh, that sure was a close one!” exclaimed Sleepy. “Some dirty coyote—”
“Shot at me,” finished Jimmy nervously. “That bullet went past my ear—I felt it.”