sented itself; the pile of brass shells at his feet was momentarily growing.
The stand of these two, Original and Timberline, in Hilma's cabin was, in truth, the recourse of desperation following an escape more than miraculous from the trap in the Spout. There while the attack of Andy Dorson's blundering cow-punchers was in full swing—and Original could only hope for an outcome favorable to the invaders—he had determined upon the bold stroke of making a break for freedom out of the south pass. With Zang's burly bodyguard left behind, but clinging desperately to the prisoner he had risked his life to get, Original and his two companions had pushed down the road to Tisdale's. There had been a running fight with the crowd of horsemen that had passed their retreat; Hank Rogers had been shot out of his saddle; the outlaws had been beaten back. But, with Zang transferred to Rogers' horse and flight into the open country begun, the outlaws had been quick to rally for pursuit. Hilma's cabin Original had seized as a citadel fortuitously thrown his way after a heart-breaking pursuit across country.
Two against ten; the odds were heavy. Both men well realized the chance of relief by
