The twice-a-week Twin Falls times. (Twin Falls, Idaho) 1916-1918, 1917-10-23

Naqui alone.
Arriving on the trail, Drant and his !
companion discovered their sentinel in
death grip with Gwyn. He and Nan
had descended into the canyon on its
farthest side by means of a rope
which Gwyn took from a well on the
side of the trail Tying one end to
the pOmmel of his saddle and taking
Mans rifle he had descended to the
bottom of the canyon and she. refus
ing to be left alone. had followed.
They crossed the bed of the canyon
unobserved by Drant's sentry and
climbed up the other side to the trail
Gwyn was almost upon the guard be-
fore the latter saw him and fired. He
missed and Gwyn leaped on him, Nan
then taking a short cut to the point
where Joe had been left to die.
Drant and his companion lost not
"a moment in going to the rescue of
Gwyn's antagonist. Each tried to
bring their weapons into play, but
could not The struggling pair NOV
ed so rapidly they dared not take
chance of killing their friend. The
pair leaped on Gwyn, but he fought
like a tiger. He engaged the three
singly and together A dozen times
they swayed to the edge of the trail
and it seemed as though all must
plunge to death But they did not.
Finally, catching the guard around the
waist Gwyn hurled him over the
brink and to death. The other man
leaped down soon afterward break
ing his neck as he struck the rocks
below
Fearful of a similar fate, Drant fled
down the trail intending to return and
finish Joe before Gwyn could rescue
him. AS he approached, Joe, who had
been released by Nan, rose from the
ground and fired. Nan did likewise.
Drant, his fury turned on the girl,
fired at her. But Joe had anticipated
him and he leaped in front of Nan,
taking in his own heart the bullet
that was intended for her. Drant dis
appeared in the brush as Joe fell, dy-
ing, to earth. Nan was quickly bend
ing over the mortally wounded ser
want and raised his head to her lap as
Gwyn came running up The realized
that Joe's valiant life was near it end
Suddenly the old, wrinkled face of
the faithful Qaqui frightened His
eyes lighted for an instant, his lips
parted whisper came forth They
bent low to hear. He spoke:
Joe no tell"
They were his last words. His
head fell back, his face relaxed. He
was dead. Tenderly, Gwyn raised the
poor, blood-run body in his arms. Fol
lowed by Nan he carried his burden
to a point deep in the canyon and laid
it in rock grave, piling rocks high
over it so that coyotes or vultures
should not get to it. Then they began
to ascend the cliff, Nan softly weeping
as they went Half way up the trail,
Gwyn halted, his eyes riveted on
something deep down the valley. 1t
was Drant, riding like mad. Taking
careful aim, Gwyn fired one shot
from the rifle and an instant later
Dran't white pony went to earth,
shot through the head, and his rider
went flying through the air. Nan re-
strained Gwyn as he raised his rifle
to fire at Drant
Now Gwyn and Nan moved hurriedly
toward the point where they had des-
cended into the canyon. Drant, who
had by now reached the upper trail
where their horses stood, mounted
Mans horse and rode swiftly off, seek
ing Won Bleck and Rawls
When Gwyn and Nan reached the
dangling rope that had borne them to
the canyon bed, they were confront
ed by the problem of getting to the
top again. Gwyn thought first of
climbing up himself and then pulling
Nan up, but the danger of battering
her against the rocky walls of the
canyon caused him to dismiss the
plan. He had a sudden inspiration
Tying the rope securely about the
middle of Mans rifle, he ordered her
to sit on one side of it and he sat
upon the other. Then he tugged at the
rope until the strain put fear into his
horse and the frightened beast start
ed on a mad gallOp along the trail AS
he ran, he pulled Gwyn and Nan to
the top Of the canyon.
%A&
When they reached the top, Gwyn
replaced the rope in the well and he
and Nan went in search of their
mounts. Only Gwyn's was to be found
and they realized how Drant had got
away. Lifting Nan into the saddle,
Gwyn then got on back of her and
they started for the hacienda.
Dusk was beginning to unfold its
thin, blue veil over the solemn peaks
of the Sierras. The shadowy outlines
of the tree-tops stretching hazily away
over the mountains looked like a thou
sand tombstones in the growing dark
ness The thick silence about the lit
tie house that had been Don Carlos
seemed to emphasize the vastness and
solitude of the hills. 1t was lust
fourteen hours. From the windows
of the hacienda the low, Pickering,
nervous rays of candle-light cast their
yellow brightness into the darkness.
Inside, lounging comfortably in the
living room, were three men, convers-
ing seriously in low, scarcely inau-
dible voices. They were Karl Won
Bleck, Shoestring Drant and Cut Deep
Rawls Won Bleck was leaning for
ward in his chair, a worried, unnatur-
al expression on his countenance.
Drant was talking, and, as he spoke
he mOpped the DersDiratiOn from his