straight at him. Luckily, haste and the darkness prevented good aim,
although he was at short range. But Ned felt the swish of the bullet so
close to him that every nerve jumped, and he jumped with them. The first
jump took him half way to the pyramid and the next landed him at its
base. There the second nearest sentinel fired at him and he heard the
bullet flatten itself against the stone.

Fortunately for Ned, the silent, thoughtful lad, he had often tried to
imagine what he would do in critical junctures, and now, despite the
terrible crisis, he was able to take control of his nerves. He
remembered to pull the sombrero down over his face and to keep close to
the pyramid. The shots had caused an uproar in the camp. Men were
running about, lights were springing up, and officers were shouting
orders. A single fugitive among so many confused pursuers might yet pass
for one of them. Chance which had been against him was now for him. The
wind suddenly took a wilder sweep and the rain lashed harder. He left
the pyramid and darted behind a tumulus. He stood there quietly and
heard the uproar of the hunt at other points. Presently he slouched
away in the manner of a careless peon, with his serape drawn about chin
as well as body, for which the wind and the rain were a fitting excuse.
He also shouted and chattered occasionally with others, and none knew
that he was the Gringo at whom the two sentinels had fired.

Ned thought to make a way through the lines, but so many lights now
flared up on all the outskirts that he saw it was impossible.

He turned back again to the side of the pyramid, where he was almost
hidden by débris and foliage. Two or three false alarms had been sounded
on the other side of the great structure, and practically the whole mob
of searchers was drawn away in that direction. He formed a quick