"Clean temple shot," Buck remarked, covering the face and arising.

"There's some fine shots up on that rock. Well, here's another reason why we've got to get up there an' wipe 'em out quick. Pie was a white man, square as a die and a good puncher--I wouldn't have asked for a better pardner. You fellers take him to camp--we're going to find a way to square things if there is one. No, Pete, you an' Johnny carry him in--Skinny is going with us."

Buck, Hopalong, and Skinny returned to the edge of the pasture and the foreman again swept the wall through his gla.s.ses. "Hey! What's that? A body?"

Hopalong looked. "Yes, two of 'em! I reckon Pie died game, all right."

"Well, come on--we've got to move along," and Buck led the way north, Skinny bringing up the rear. Next to Lanky Smith, at present nursing wounds at the ranch, Skinny was the best man with a rope in the Bar-20 outfit and the lariat he used so deftly was one hundred and fifty feet in length, much longer than any used by those around the mesa. Buck had asked him to go with them because he wished to have his opinion as to the possibility of getting a rope up the mesa wall.

When they came opposite the rock which had sheltered Johnny they sortied to see if that part of the mesa was guarded, but there was no sign of life upon it. Then, separating, they dashed to the midway cover, the thicket, which they reached without incident. From there they continued to the pinnacle and now could see every rock and seam of the wall with their naked eyes. But they used the gla.s.ses and after a few minutes' examination of the ledges Hopalong turned to his companions. "Just as Johnny said. Skinny, do you reckon if you was under them to-night that you could get yore rope fast to th' bottom one?"

"Sh.o.r.e; that's easy. But it won't be no cinch roping th' other,"

Skinny replied. "She sticks out over th' first by two feet. It'll be hard to jerk a rope from that narrow foothold."

"Somebody can hang onto you so you can lean out," Buck replied. "Pete can hold you easy."

"But what'll he hold on to?"

Hopalong pointed. "See that spur up there, close to th' first ledge?

He can hitch a rope around that an' hang to th' rope. I tell you it's _got_ to be done. We can't lose no more men in this everlasting pot-shooting game. We've got to get close an' clean up!"

"Well, I ain't saying nothing different, am I?" snapped Skinny. "I'm saying it'll be hard, an' it will. Now suppose one of them fellers goes on sentry duty along this end; what then?"

"We'll solve that when we come to it," Hopalong replied. "I reckon if Red lays on this rock in th' moonlight that he can drop any sentry that stands up against th' sky at a hundred yards. We've got to try it, anyhow."

"_Down!_" whispered Buck, warningly. "Don't let 'em know we're here.

Drop that gun, Hoppy!"

They dropped down behind the loose bowlders while the rustler pa.s.sed along the edge, his face turned towards the pinnacle. Then, deciding that Johnny had not returned, he swept the chaparral with a pair of gla.s.ses. Satisfied at length that all was well he turned and disappeared over a rocky ledge ten feet from the edge of the wall.

"I could 'a dropped him easy," grumbled Hopalong, regretfully, and Skinny backed him up.

"Sh.o.r.e you could; but I don't want them to think we are looking at this end," Buck replied. "We'll have th' boys raise th' devil down south till dark an' keep that gang away from this end."

"I reckon they read yore mind--hear th' shooting?" Skinny queried.

"That must be Red out there--I can see half of him from here,"

Hopalong remarked, lowering his gla.s.ses. "Look at th' smoke he's making! Wonder what's up? Hear th' others, too!"

"Come on--we'll get out of this," Buck responded. "We'll go to camp an' plan for to-night, an' talk it over with th' rest. I want to hear what Meeker's going to do about it an' how we can place his men."

"By thunder! If we _can_ get up there, half a dozen of us with Colts, an' sneak up on 'em, we'll have this fight tied up in a bag so quick they won't know what's up," Skinny remarked. "You can bet yore life that if there's any way to get a rope up that wall I'll do it!"

CHAPTER x.x.x

UP THE WALL

Pipes were glowing in the shadows away from the fire, where men lay in various att.i.tudes of ease. A few were examining wounds while others cleaned rifles and saw that their revolvers were in good condition.

Around the fire but well back from it four men sat cross-legged, two others stretched out on their elbows and stomachs near them.

"You say everything is all right on th' ranch?" asked Buck of a man who, covered with alkali, had just come from the Bar-20. "No trouble, hey?"

"Nope; no trouble at all," replied Cross, tossing his sombrero aside.

"Lucas an' Bartlett each sent us four men to help out when they learned you had come out here. We shipped four of 'em right on to th'

H2, which is too short-handed to do any damage to rustlers."

"Much obliged for that," spoke up Meeker, relief in his voice. "I'm blamed glad to hear things are quiet back home--but I don't know how long they'll stay that way with Eagle so close."

"Well, Eagle ain't a whole lot anxious to dip in no more," laughed Cross, looking at the H2 foreman. "Leastawise, that's what Lucas said.

He sent a delegation down there which made a good impression. There was ten men in it an' they let it be known that if they came back again there would be ten more with 'em. In that case Eagle wouldn't be no more than a charred memory. Since Quinn died, being shot hard by Nevada, who I reckons is out here, th' town ain't got n.o.body to tell it how to do things right, which is sh.o.r.e pleasant."

"You bring blamed good news--I'm glad Lucas went down there," Buck replied. "I can't tell as good news about us out here, yet. We've had a hard time for a week. They got Pie to-day, an' most of us are shot up plentiful. Yo're just in time for th' festival, Cross--we're going to try to rush 'em to-night an' get it over. We reckon Skinny an' Pete can get us a way up that wall before dawn."

"Me for th' rush," laughed Cross. "I'm fresh as a daisy, which most of you fellers ain't. How many of 'em have you got so far? Are there many still up there?"

"We've got four of 'em that I knows of, an' how many of 'em died from their wounds I can't say," replied Hopalong. "But a whole lot of 'em have been plugged, an' plugged hard."

"But how many are up there still able to fight?"

"I should say about nine," Hopalong remarked, thoughtfully.

"Ten," corrected Red. "I've been watching th' positions an' I know."

"About nine or ten--they shift so n.o.body can really tell," Buck replied. "I reckon we've seen 'em all in Eagle, too."

"Frenchy got Nevada an' another to-day, on th' west side," Johnny interposed.

"I'm glad Nevada is gone--he's a terror in a mix-up," Cross rejoined.

"Best two-handed gun man in Eagle, he was."

"Huh!" snorted Johnny. "Stack him up against Hoppy an' see how long he'd last!"

"I said in Eagle!" retorted Cross.

Buck suddenly stood up and stretched. "You fellers all turn in now an'

s.n.a.t.c.h some sleep. I'm going out to see how things are with Billy.

I'll call you in time. Doc, you an' Curtis are too shot up to do any climbing--you turn in too. When I come back I'll wake you an' send you out to help Billy watch th' trail. Where's Red?"

"Over here--what do you want?" came from the shadows.

"Nothing, only get to sleep. I reckoned you might be off somewheres scouting. Skinny, where's yore rope? Got that manilla one? Good! Put three more hemp lariats out here where I can find 'em when I come back. Now don't none of you waste no time; turn in right now!" He started to walk away and then hesitated, turning around. "Doc, you an'

Curtis better come with me now so you won't lose no time hunting Billy in th' dark when yore eyes are sleepy--it's hard enough to find him now in th' dark, when I'm wide awake. You can get yore sleep out there--he'll wake you when yo're needed."

The two punchers arose and joined him, Doc with his left arm bandaged and his companion with three bandages on him. When they joined Buck Doc protested. "Let me go with you an' th' rest of th' boys, Peters, when you go up that wall. I came out here to get th' Greaser that murdered Curley, an' I hate to miss him now. If I can't climb th' boys will be glad to pull me up, an' it won't take no time to speak of. My gun arm is sound as a dollar--_I_ want that Greaser!"