To Tom Morse, used to Bully West and his ways, the frontal attack did
not seem quite genuine. It was desultory and ineffective. Why? What
trick did Bully have up his sleeve? Tom put himself in his place to
see what he would do.

And instantly he knew. The real attack would come from the rear. With
the firing of the first shot back there, Bully West would charge.
Taken on both sides the garrison would fall easy victims.

The constable and Onistah were busy answering the fire of the
smugglers. Sleeping Dawn was crouched down behind two rocks, the
barrel of her rifle gleaming through a slit of open space between
them. She was compromising between the orders given her and the
anxiety in her to fight back Bully West. As much as she could she kept
under cover, while at the same time firing into the darkness whenever
she thought she saw a movement.

Morse slipped rearward on a tour of investigation. The ground here
fell away rather sharply, so that one coming from behind would have to
climb over a boulder field rising to the big rocks. It took Tom only a
casual examination to see that a surprise would have to be launched by
way of a sort of rough natural stairway.

A flat shoulder of sandstone dominated the stairway from above. Upon
this Morse crouched, every sense alert to detect the presence of any
one stealing up the pass. He waited, eager and yet patient. What he
was going to attempt had its risk, but the danger whipped the blood in
his veins to a still excitement.