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He had seen many darting lizards that day. But none had moved more swiftly than the clumsily built Gila monster now darted at the disturbers of his torpor. There was no time for thought. Lennon sensed that the reptile aimed to strike at Carmena's bared wrist. "Jump!" he cried, and flung himself forward to block the attack with his out-thrust right hand.
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.
She had not fainted. Her dark eyes gazed up at Lennon, wide with an anguish of self-reproach. "Used up can't make it," she whispered. "No chance for both after sun-up. Ride hard toward Triple Butte." Lennon's reply was to open the canteen and hold it to her lips. Only a few drops were left when she managed to thrust it away.
"How about it?" he demanded. "You said you'd back me up. How do I know I can count on you not knifing me?" "You have my word," replied Lennon, striving hard to repress his eagerness. The irregular firing up the valley became more rapid. Slade scowled and thrust out Lennon's high-power rifle. "It's a go that new deal. Take your belt, too.
It was a queer sort of dinner-party. I could tell by the look of Old Hickory's eyes that something was coming from him. And sure enough, after coffee had been passed, he proceeds to tackle the situation square and solid, like he always does. He waves off the stewards and sends for Lennon, the yacht captain.
Carmena gravely drew a sheath knife from the pocket of her skirt. "He knows I usually carry my revolver," she said. Lennon stared. "Your revolver wasn't in your pocket? Yet you sheathed your rifle!" "Didn't you notice his men had their guns pointed at us across their laps? Sheathing mine was what gave me the chance to bluff him. It's all right now. He won't try any more tricks this time."
Carmena was different. Her rich bloom was more like the flowers of the desert growths the thorn-guarded yucca and needled cactus. There was nothing soft and cuddly about her. At the realization of where his thoughts were drifting, Lennon wrenched his mental focus back to Elsie. What concern could the fate of Carmena be to him? She belonged with her drunken, criminal father in Dead Hole.
"Quite true," agreed Lennon, and he thrust the revolver into his pocket. "Now, with regard to the lode, our next step will be " "What'd you say you was to git from your copper company?" broke in Slade, suddenly straight-eyed and cordial. "Twenty thousand bonus for relocating the lode, and " "You can draw on 'em for it?" "For half, at least.
At the foot of the rope ladder he thrust his rifle through the back of his belt and swung up as fast as he could climb. Before he had ascended twenty feet a half-spent bullet thudded against the cliff face at his elbow. Another grazed his side. At least one of the distant Apaches had turned about and was making uncomfortably close shots at the climber. Lennon stopped short.
She had seated herself upon a Navaho rug and was leaning forward to look over the cliff, with her hands on the sillstone at the brink. Down below Lennon could see only a single swarthy face, bound about the forehead with a wide cloth band. The other Indians were in nearer the base of the cliff.
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