This was the luckiest shot of the fight, for it was no other than Gus Gols himself whom Juarez had struck. There was a lull now, and the boys had time to breathe.

“Jo, you get up into that tree and keep watch,” said Jim, “while the rest of us take account of stock.”

“I guess those fellows have had enough to keep them quiet for a while,” said Juarez. “It looked to me as though I had got their big chief with that shot.”

“It’s half the battle if you have done that,” said Jim. “Wait till daylight comes and we will make them skedaddle.”

“It’s remarkable how quiet the horses took all this,” said Tom.

“Oh, they have been under fire before,” said Jim. “You can trust ’em not to act up at a time like this.”

This was certainly true, though they were packed together close at the end of the corral-stockade. They made no disturbance and seemed to realize that their safety was being looked after by their old comrades, the Frontier Boys.

“I’m kind of hungry,” said Jim. “Let’s have something to eat.”

“It’s kind of late for supper,” said Jeems, “but it’s never too late to eat.”

So the boys made as good a meal in the darkness as they could, and felt better for it. They also drank sparingly of the water, for they did not know how long the siege would last. It was now about half-past one, and the boys were very anxious for the morning to break.

About three o’clock there came a furious firing from behind a hastily constructed entrenchment at the end of the hill opposite where the boys had built their stockade.

Most of the bullets buried themselves harmlessly in the soft wood of the pine logs that made the walls of the stockade. The boys replied with accuracy, but they were careful not to waste their ammunition. At last the dawn broke clear, and with the first gleam of light the boys looked eagerly out to see if the enemy still held the hill.

“They have vamoosed,” said Juarez after making a careful reconnoissance. This was true, but the boys found that the fight was not yet entirely over, for when they appeared in full view on the hill there came a volley from the bank of the creek half a mile distant, which was the nearest shelter that could be obtained on that side.

The height of the hill made the first flight of bullets fall somewhat short, and, before the crowd could fire again, the boys had got out of danger and returned the fire with interest. They had the advantage, too, in firing down instead of up, and they kept the enemy close to cover.

About the middle of the morning there was a furious fusillade from both sides, the creek bank and the gully, against the stockade, which was beginning to show quite a scarred appearance. The boys replied with vigor; then suddenly the firing slackened and then ceased altogether.

“I believe they have quit,” declared Jo.

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” warned Jim.

“There they go up through those willows, near the creek,” said Juarez.

“That’s where I caught the trout,” said Jo. He evidently considered it a more historic spot than where the fort stood, being a true fisherman.

“I really believe they are quitting,” announced Tom.

“It’s possible their ammunition has run low,” suggested Jim.

“Another thing,” put in Jo, “if big Gus is badly hurt, the rest of that gang won’t hold together.”

“That’s so,” agreed Juarez. “Those Greasers are never to be trusted.”

“He has bullied ’em too,” said Jim, “and they would naturally turn on him. But if you treat the Mexicans fair and square, you would find that they weren’t such a bad lot after all.”

“Just as soon try to tame hyenas,” said Tom.

“You are prejudiced, Thomas,” reasoned Jeems. “That comes from being an Anglo-Saxon.”

“He’s an angler-Saxon, you mean,” said Jo. They all laughed at this.

“That’s pretty good for you,” said Jim. “Keep on you will be a wit.”

“I am already,” replied Jo modestly.

It seemed kind of natural to hear the boys joking so light-heartedly, and like old times. The battle was over without any dramatic crisis. Things do happen that way sometimes, and the boys were perfectly satisfied to have it end without any grand blow out or blow up. They soon found out that the enemy had indeed retreated, for they went up the gully, that is, Jim and Juarez did, with due caution, and found that Gus Gols and his gang had gone. They discovered the place where their horses had been hitched.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” said Jim enthusiastically.

“I wonder if they will attack us again to-night?” questioned Juarez.

“We will be ready for them if they do,” remarked Jim.

“I suppose we will start to-morrow,” said Juarez, as the two walked back across the level meadow towards the hill.

“Yes, if the coast is clear,” remarked Jim. “We can’t afford to lose any more time.”

“They are almost sure to lay for us in the canyon,” remarked Juarez. “We will have to find some other way.”

“One of us will go this afternoon,” said Jim, “and see if we can’t strike a new trail.”

It was now noon and the boys sat down to a quiet meal, with trout as the main dish, and how they did enjoy it!

“Gosh, boys,” exclaimed Jo, “but it does seem nice to sit down to a meal without the bullets buzzing around.”

“We will get so that we won’t mind bullets any more than mosquitoes,” said Tom.

“Listen to him!” grinned Jim. “Won’t he surprise the natives when we get back to Homeville with his stories of flying bullets, war, and border ruffians.”

“Why not?” retorted Tom sullenly. “What’s the use of going through all this business if you can’t tell about it?”

“Sure thing,” said Jim.

“When are we going home?” asked Jo fervently.

Jim hesitated a minute, and then he brought his clenched fist down on his knee.

“We will go home, boys,” he declared, “before we start on our trip around the world.”

“I begin to feel homesick already,” declared Jo.

“We will stop in Kansas,” said Juarez, his face brightening, “and see my folks.”

“Certainly we will,” agreed Jim.

“I bet Juanita has grown into a young lady,” remarked Juarez.

“Your father and mother will be plumb glad to see you,” said Jo.

“You fellows, too; they think just as much of you as they do of me. And they ought to, seeing how you and Captain Graves rescued Juanita from the Indians in Colorado.”

“Will we stop and see the captain in his cabin on the Plateau?” asked Tom eagerly.

“Sure,” declared Jim. “We will spend a few days with him. He is too old a friend to pass by.”

“Won’t it be great!” exclaimed Jo. “What will the folks and all the fellars think when they see us coming on our chargers down the main street of Maysville?”

“I reckon about everybody will take to the woods. Think it is band of wild Indians coming down on them.”

“We will have to hurry and find that mine,” said Tom, “before we can strike the back trail for home.”

“I have a kind of feeling in my bones,” said Jim, “that we are going to find that mine pretty soon now.”

“We ain’t more than one day’s ride from the section where it is,” said Jeems.

“I’m going to look for a new trail this afternoon,” said Jim. “You boys can work around home.”

“It’s about time those mules and horses had some water,” remarked Juarez.

“Think it’s safe?” inquired Jo.

“To make sure, I’ll take a gallop up the valley a ways,” said Jim, “to see if they have cleared out.”

“That’s the idea,” agreed Juarez. “I’ll take the creek side on my roan.”

In five minutes they were mounted and galloped off, Jim scouting along the mountain slope and Juarez taking the other side. They met at the end of the valley where the trail started up the big canyon. Here they dismounted and examined the ground carefully.