“Think so. Something moved. Down in that hollow. He’s outa sight now.”
“They’ve got us located, then. Old Man Trouble headed this way. Something liable to start. Soon now.”
The minutes dragged. Bob’s eyes blurred from the intensity with which he watched.
A bullet struck the edge of the pit. Bob ducked involuntarily. Presently there was a second shot—and a third.
“They’re gettin’ warm,” Dud said.
He and Bob fired at the smoke puffs, growing now more frequent. Both of them knew it would be only a short time till one of them was hit unless their friends came to the rescue. Spurts of sand flew every few moments.
There was another undesirable prospect. The Utes might charge and capture the pit, wiping out the defenders. To prevent this the cowpunchers kept up as lively a fire as possible.
From down the valley came the sound of scattered shots and yells. Dud swung his hat in glee.
“Good boys! They’re comin’ in on the rear. Hi yi yippy yi!”