"I reckon they think I'm a yearlin'," was his mental comment.
There was another long wait.

Sanderson could picture the two men arguing the question that must deeply concern them: "Which shall be the first to show himself ?" "I'd bet a million they're drawin' straws," grinned Sanderson.
Whether that method decided the question Sanderson never knew.

He knew, however, that a hat was slowly coming into view around a side of the rock, and he was positive that this time there was a head in the hat.

He could not have told now he knew there was a head in the hat, but that was his conviction.
The hat appeared slowly, gradually taking on definite shape in Sanderson's eyes, until, with a cold grin, he noted some brown flesh beneath it, and a section of dark beard.
Sanderson did not fire, then.

The full head followed the hat, then came a man's shoulders.