An' them thet's after 'em is Mexicans, spurrin' like the devil."
Stone and Larkin ran for the chimney and the ladder. There was no doubt in their minds as to whom the girls were. Lola and Peggy! In the stimulation of their discovery and the urge for breakfast they had left their rifles where they had placed them the night before, by the entrance to the tunnel. Stone reached the rope first and swarmed up it hand-over-hand, aided by the spikes, Larkin close behind him. They gained the upper ledge and raced for the opening, gathering up two rifles apiece and returning. The rope hung limp.
"Where in 'ell is 'Arvey?" panted Larkin. "'Ealy's funked it."
"They'll come," shouted Stone. "Get busy with your rifle, man."
They put down the extra guns and pumped cartridges into breeches as they came to the outer rim of the horseshoe ledge. The girls, with their lighter weights, maintained their distance though it looked as if their mounts were tiring. And their revolvers were more defiant than useful at the range that gave all the advantage to the larger party with their heavier weapons. From the altitude it was possible to fire at the Mexicans without danger to the fugitives, for the flight was at a tangent.
"About eight 'undred yards," said Larkin as he swiftly raised his sights. Stone took his judgment and they both fired at once. Four or five bullets went wild before they got the range and then a horse
