The valley broadened and the timber thinned out. Slim reined Lightning in sharply. Ahead of them was a great wash strewn with boulders which had been carried down from the peaks of the Cajons by spring torrents. Somewhere in the mass of boulders was the secret of the steady firing.
Slim listened carefully. Three rifles were barking their song of death. As nearly as he could tell from the firing, it was two against one and he voted himself a ringside seat.
“You stay here,” he told Lightning. “I can’t tell what I’m up against and you’re a pretty good sized target.”
He slipped off the sorrel and ducked in between the boulders. The sky was a blaze of red as the sun dipped over the horizon. Already the shadows were creeping up from the lowlands. Another fifteen minutes at the most remained of light in which he could hope to do any kind of shooting if he found himself in trouble.
Slim moved from boulder to boulder, drawing rapidly nearer to the scene of the firing. It seemed to be concentrated to his right and he worked steadily in that direction. A minute later he saw the opening of a small draw off the main valley. Then he spotted the horse which had been shot down. The animal was lying just in front of the smaller valley. There was a huge boulder a little to Slim’s left and he managed to crawl on top of it. From this point of vantage the entire scene unfolded.
The rider of the dead horse was trapped in the small wash. His cayuse shot down, he had attempted to escape, only to find himself in a box-like canyon with walls too steep to scale. He had taken refuge behind the rocks and now was firing carefully and methodically at the men who had brought him down.
A few seconds later Slim spotted the riflemen who had killed the horse. One on each side, they were gradually closing in on the man who was trapped in the canyon.
Slim took another look at his Winchester. The range was almost too easy, less than two hundred yards. There was no wind, but the light was fading fast.
He didn’t like the way the men were closing in on the trapped rider. Their actions were too deadly, they were firing too calmly. It was evident that they did not intend that their victim should get out alive. It wasn’t a fair fight and Slim took a substantial interest in the argument as he snuggled the smooth, walnut butt of the Winchester against his cheek.