Chapter XX

A shower of hot stones pelted the man and girl standing motionless as Indian gods, peering into an impenetrable wall of smoke and mist. Rain splashed. Paxton turned. “Come on, Jan. We’d better make for that shack while the going is fairly good. I’ll bet it leaks like a sieve, but it will be some protection. Those infernal quitters threw out a can of crackers. I’ll take that along.” He picked up the tin. With cocked revolver poked ahead of him, he started up an almost obliterated trail along the bank of a rushing, f…