Ye couldn't tell a man's hand at that distance, but I see nothing of him, and I should like ye to tell me where he's gone." "That is what puzzles me.

Maybe he is afraid that we will see him." Mickey was hardly disposed to accept such an explanation.

It seemed to him more likely that it was some wild animal mousing around the orifice, and displacing the dirt with his paws, although he couldn't understand why an animal should be attracted by such a spot.
"It may be one of the spalpeens that got us into all this trouble," he added, still circling slowly about, with his eyes fixed upon the opening.

"Those Apaches are sharp-eyed, and perhaps one of their warriors has struck our trail, and tracked us to that spot.

If it's the same, then I does n't see what he is to gain by fooling round up there.
If he'd be kind 'nough to let a lasso down that we could climb up by, there'd be some sinse in the same, but---" To the horror of both, at that instant there was a flash at the opening over their heads, a dull report, and the bullet buried itself in the very centre of the camp-fire.
"Begorrah, but that's what I call cheek, as Ned McGowan used to say when the folks axed him to pay his debts.