"You can go sit on that rock, McCarty, " said Connie, indicating a boulder at the edge of the cliff. "You can't get away unless you jump over—and it's a good two hundred feet to the nearest rocks below."
"I ain't aimin' to git away, kid—leastwise, not that-a-way," he grinned, and lapsed into silence.
An hour dragged by before the sound of foot- steps on the rock floor of the trail from Cameron Creek reached the ears of the boy. Beckoning to McCarty, he motioned him to be seated close beside the head of the steep rock trail, and took his own position close behind him.
"Hey!" objected the man, "you goin' to use me fer a fort?"
"You're a good little guesser," assented Connie. "You see, I'm expecting my pardner, Sergeant McKeever, any minute. If that is he, you needn't worry that he will shoot. But, if it should happen to be one of your friends—well, I won't worry if he shoots, either."
Suddenly a man burst panting into the open: *'Beat it!" he cried, "The Mounted!"
"Reach!" commanded Connie, and with a
