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in the country will have heard that boom!"

"You must have blown that trail to bits," added Durango. "I guess whoever was using it will have to find another way out of that valley."

Carlos looked back over his shoulder. The entire brush forest was smoking, and a few flames were showing over the top. "I hope I haven't lit a fire that will burn everyone on this side out," he said ruefully.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Red replied. "That brush forest is thermite wood. It doesn't burn well."

"How do you know what kind of wood it is?" Durango asked suspiciously.

"I know because I worked as a packer for one of those scientist types. His specialty was identifying plants and figuring out how they could be used. If I wanted a bonus, I had to learn what kind of plants he was looking for. He paid good money if I could lead him to the plants he wanted."

"Why did you quit if the job was so good?"

"Old Cinders got himself killed taking sides in the wrong fight. I didn't want them hunting me, so I lit out of there after they killed him. He told me to take his notebooks to Mrs. St. Vyr if anything ever happened to him. That's how I came to work for Mike."

"Since we're sure we aren't going to burn this area to the ground, let's start back. We can make camp where we stopped on the way up." Carlos said, turning Red Lightning toward home.

Several days later, the three tired men had almost reached the edge of the trees separating the valley from the hills when shots rang out.

Carlos cursed, and jumped Red Lightning back into the thicker trees. Durango and Red did the same. Once behind the cover of a large boulder, they dismounted.

"Where did the shots came from?" Carlos asked.

"Over to the right, I think," Durango replied.

"Who are they and why are they shooting at us?" Red asked.

"Maybe there was another way out of that valley after all," Carlos said grimly. "When I lit the first fuse, I heard tricorns on the trail."

"Or maybe someone in town heard about what we came up here to do and laid in wait for us," Durango offered. "Stealing from lone miners was a pretty good racket."

"It doesn't matter. We need to take them out to find out why they shot at us. Watch the tricorns," Carlos said. "I'm going to crawl up this rock to see if I can spot the shooters."

Carefully, he crept up the rough face of the boulder. Happily, the rock wasn't smooth but had plenty of notches to provide a climber with hand and footholds. There was a little flattened area close to the rim. Stopping to take off his hat, Carlos peeked over the top. About fifty yards away, he could see the mounts of the men who attacked them tucked away behind a stand of trees. Seven tricorns, that meant seven men. He was betting the men were under cover close to the animals. He waited patiently, and finally he spotted movement further down the hill, as he had guessed, not far from their mounts.

He slid back down the rock and reported his findings. By chance, their own animals were hidden in a pocket created by the boulders where they had taken refuge.

"Can you sneak up on them and fire, so they have to break position, Red?"

"I reckon. What's the plan?"

"The best shot of the three of us should wait up on top of the boulder. When the ambushers break out of cover, they can be picked off. The other two will try to flank them."

"Durango here is a good shot. He took the sharp shooting prize at the rodeo last year."

"I remember," Carlos said. "Okay, that makes me the other man on the ground. I will sneak down the hill while you go around them, Red. When you fire, be sure you're undercover so I don't accidentally hit you."

The three men grinned at each other. "Good hunting," they whispered as they each went to their spot.

Carlos darted from tree to tree as he made his way down the hill. His plan was to drive the ambushers toward Durango's position on the rock.

He barely made it to cover beside a fat Indigotree before Red made his first shot. Crouching, Carlos too fired his gun in the direction he thought the men were hiding. Two of them broke out of the trees, firing over their shoulders. They were running toward Durango's rock, and he easily picked them off.

A barrage of shots aimed at Durango's position rang out. Carlos fired his rifle in the direction the shots had come from. There was a yelp. Either he or Red must have hit someone.

The next men who tried to escape ran down the hill. Carlos took aim and fired two shots. Both men dropped, but he could see one man on the ground was still alive.   Carlos realized his gun was empty, and he dug into his pocket for more shells.

"I call this serendipity," drawled a familiar voice from behind him. "You lay that rifle down and stand up real slow, Madonna."

Not being a fool, Carlos did as he was told, and turned around to find Ben Sykes grinning at him.

"Hello Ben," he said. "I might have known you were mixed up in this someway."

"You've been a pain in my ass ever since you took over the Lucky Strike," Sykes said. "I'm going to enjoy taking you out."

"Shoot me down like a dog, Sykes? That will go over big when you tell it in the saloon. I'll bet you clean it up though. It won't do to tell everyone you shot me after you took my rifle because you were too much of a coward to face me with a handgun."

"That's a damn lie!" Sykes snapped. "I ain't afraid of you Madonna."

Carlos grinned at him. "Prove it."

Angrily, Sykes switched his rifle to his other hand, grabbing for his belt gun as he did so.

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