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Half a stone's throw farther the bank fell again to the water's

edge, the river having broadened and grown shallow, as mountain

creeks do. The ranger ran, stooping, along the bank, till it

afforded him no more protection, then dashed across the

stony-bottomed stream to the shelter of the thick aspens beyond.

Just as he expected, a shot rang from far up the mountainside. In

another instant he was safe in the foliage of the young aspens.

In the sheer exhilaration of his escape he laughed aloud.

"Last show to score gone, Mr. Struve. I figured it just right. He

waited too long for his first shot. Then the bank hid me. He

wasn't expecting to see me away down the stream, so he hadn't

time to sight his second one."

Steve wound his way in and out among the aspens, working toward

the tail of them, which ran up the hill a little way and dropped

down almost to the back door of the cabin. Upon this he was

presently pounding.