Sudden Outlawed

"Didn't hear me a-comin', did ye?" he asked, and chuckled at his own cleverness.

"We're glad to see yu," Sudden said heartily.

When the business of eating was concluded, the little man filled his pipe and looked quizzically at his hosts. "So the S E has give yu the air?" he remarked.

"They told yu?" Sandy queried.

"Ain't talked with 'em," Tyson said. "Here's the how of it. When yu busted away an' the Injuns took after yu, I follered. . Bein' on the hoof, I didn't arrive till the fandango was finished. I collects them scalps yu left lyin' around, for which I'm thankin' yu ; worth ten wheels apiece, them top-knots is, if yu know where to take 'em. Then I trails yu, figurin' yo're still in dutch an' that mebbe I can turn the trick, but I'm too late, yu've went. I points for the S E."

"So yu know all about it?"

Tyson shook his head. "I ain't clost enough to hear much, but my eyesight is fair an' I'm a good guesser," he said. "When I see Monte Jack in the company I knowed dirty work was afoot."

"Monte Jack?" both his hearers repeated.

"Yeah, fella sittin' next the gal."

"He calls hisself `Baudry' now."

"Like enough, but he was knowed as Monte Jack in Kansas City less'n two year ago, an' bad medicine. Catched cheatin' at poker an' shot the fella under the table--gun on his knees, yu know. It warn't the first time an' he had to flit plenty rapid. A close call for Monte, that was."

"An' Eden believes in him," Sandy said.

"Well, yu don't have to worry," Tyson laughed. "He fired yu, didn't he?".

"yeah, he fired us, shore enough," the boy agreed. "But there's Miss Carol, that toad's got his poisonous eye on her, an' the outfit--decent fellas--are dependin' on puttin' that drive through. They're our friends--still."

"An' not likin' Mister Monte Jack nothin' to notice we're kind o' hankerin' to pile him up," Sudden added. He went on to tell of the decision he and Sandy had come to, and the "still-hunter" listened, his bright little eyes darting from one to the other, his jaw working on a plug of tobacco, alert as, and very like, a squirrel.

"Well, I took a fancy to yu boys," he said, when their plans had been made plain. "If yo're willin', me an' Betsy"--he patted the rifle beside him--"will take a hand. Three pairs o' peepers is better nor two, an' I savvy Injuns."

The cowboys were glad to have him, and said so. Apart from his bloodthirsty occupation, there was a great deal that was attractive in this odd little man. Moreover, they were already deeply in his debt, and neither of them was of the type to forget that.

Chapter XXII

EARLY on the following morning Tyson left them. "Hang on to the herd an' I'll be with yu come dark, or sooner," he said. Then he plunged into the thicket and was lost to sight and sound in a few seconds.

They spent a lazy day, their only concern being to keep under cover. Several times, lying flat on a ridge, they got a sight of the herd, a long, twisted string of dots, dipping into hollows, plodding up slopes, inexorably pushing northwards. And though the distance was too great for him to recognize the rider, Sandy cursed when he saw that Carol had a companion.

The shadows were gathering when Tyson joined them in the dry arroyo where they had decided to spend the night. He had the hump ribs of a buffalo calf, wrapped in part of the skin, and a bow and arrows, for which, he grimly explained, the late owner had no further use.

"I can use her pretty good--lived with 'Paches onct. She'll fill the pot an' save powder."

But this was not what the cowboys were thinking of. A brave with a bullet in his brain might well bring his tribesmen on the trail. The little man divined their thoughts and grinned as he pushed a gory hank of black hair into his pack.

"Nothin' to go grey over, boys," he said lightly. "I used steel an' blinded my tracks. 'Sides, I'm wearin' 'Pache moccasins, so them devils will git the blame. Allasame, I could 'a' shot him, so Betsy gits her tally."

Calmly he cut a nick in the stock of the gun, one more in that terrible register, using the knife which had let the life out of the red man, and, as they knew, must later have skinned and cut up the flesh they were about to eat. Life in the wilds, however, knocked the fastidiousness out of one, and the broiled ribs tasted none the worse.

Tyson had, they learned, located the outlaw band a few miles east, creeping along on the heels of the herd like a mountain cat, ready to pounce on its prey at the propitious moment. He had counted a dozen men, and gathered that others were away hunting.

"They ain't too well fixed for grub an' is grumblin'," he said. ' A mighty hard lot. Eden will need all the help he can git, an' then some."

A week passed and save that all parties were nearer their destination, the position remained unchanged. Then, with the suddenness of a summer storm, danger loomed up, dire and overwhelming.

Tyson' had, as usual, after the morning meal, gone to discover possible signs of activity in the outlaw's camp, and his companions were riding leisurely in the wake of the herd. It was Sandy who saw the "still-hunter" first.

"Tyson is a-comin' an' ain't losin' no time neither," he said.

In fact, the little man--abandoning his customary Indian-like stride--was running, and when, spurring their mounts, they met him, he dropped, gasping, on a nearby mound. His usually mild features were hard and fierce.

"Trouble ahead, boys," he panted.

"Rogue goin' to strike?" Sudden asked.

"Naw, Injuns," the other replied. "Two score, mebbe even more--they was hidden--waitin' to jump the herd."

"No chance o' dodgin' 'em?"

"Not a hope--the cattle has to go that way. Them war-whoops has picked the right place. For miles now the plain is narrow, with rough country both sides. There's one spot where they might hold the herd an' make a fight of it."

He described it, and Sudden listened carefully. Sandy's face was haggard with anxiety.

"My God! Jim, what can we do?" he asked.

Sudden turned to Tyson. "Climb Sandy's bronc an' fetch Rogue," he said. "Don't let on about us ; yu just happened on the redskins, saw the herd, an' figured that, as a white man, he'd help his own kind."

"Shore, but I'll git there quicker afoot--it's rough goin'," Tyson replied, and was gone.

Sandy stared at his companion in amazement. "yu sendin' for Rogue?" he gasped. Then comprehension came to him and he chortled with delight. "yu wily devil," he complimented. "That shore is great medicine. Do we warn the S E?"

"I do ; yu cross the trail an' follow on the other side, keepin' outa sight. I'll join yu later an' mebbe the war-whoops'll get a surprise."

Sandy was disappointed--he might have seen Carol--but he did not demur ; the situation was desperate, but he trusted this hard-faced friend of his and was prepared to obey blindly. So he too went on his appointed errand, while Sudden spurred after the herd. The latter passed the remuda in a cloud of dust and heard Rollitt's curse of astonishment. Sam Eden, sitting at the back-end of the wagon, greeted the visitor with a glare as he reached for his gun. The young man's cold voice interrupted :

"Don't be a fool, Eden. If I'd come for that yu'd be halfway to hell by now. I'm here to tell yu that a big bunch o' redskins is layin' for yu."

The rancher laughed jeeringly. "Yu don't expect me to believe that yarn, do yu?" he asked.

"No, but I had to warn yu," Sudden retorted."Walk into the trap if yu must ; I'll do what I can to get yu out. I've sent for aid."

The cattleman's frowning brows went up at this. "Now I know yo're lyin'--I'd say there ain't a settlement within a hundred mile. Where'd yu send--San Antonio?" he sneered. "I passed word to Rogue," was the calm reply.

With the force of a blow, the statement took the rancher's breath away. For a moment he was speechless, and then, with a furious oath, he cried, "So that's yore scheme, huh? Rogue's to come an help himself an' I'm to let him. Now listen, I ain't swallerin' yore Injuns, but I'd sooner they had the cows than that bastard road-agent leader o' yores. Get that."

"Yu seem damned anxious to make yore daughter a squaw." The biting reminder only whipped the rancher's rage to a white heat. "Curse yu, I can fight my own battles," he roared. "I don't want yore help nor his."

"Allasame, yu gotta have 'em. I ain't goin' to see men I have worked with an' liked sacrificed to yore bull-headed obstinacy. Can't yu savvy that just because Rogue aims to steal yore herd later, he's gotta protect it now? Hell, I must put Jeff wise."

The black horse shot ahead of the wagon and with its disappearance the old man's fury evaporated, and the ability to reason returned. Scowling darkly he went over the conversation again.

"Damnation, he's right," he muttered aloud.

"O' course he's right, an' allus has been," said a sharp voice. Aunt Judy, from the driving-seat of the vehicle shook a minatory finger at him. "That young fella has a brain where yu on'y got bone, Sam Eden."

"Put a bridle on that tongue," the cattleman snapped. "If yore husband had any sense he'd 'a' taken a whip to yu years hack."

"An' if yu had any yu'd 'a' listened to Green 'stead o' that mealy-mouthed, tat-faced card-sharp yo're so fond of," she countered.

"The fat-faced card-sharp is obliged for your opinion, ma'am."

Baudry had just ridden up. Though his voice was studiously polite, his eyes were venomous. The lady was not abashed.

"Yo're welcome," she retorted, and vanished behind the canvas flaps.

"You take a lot from your hired folk, Eden," the guest said. "Shucks, women must chatter, an' she'd give her life for Carol," the old man excused.

"Well, that alone lets her off with me. What brought Green?" The other told him, and the gambler's face grew grave. "Seems to be nothing else to do, but it's like setting the fox to guard the chickens," was his comment.

Meanwhile, Sudden had reached the head of the herd and told his news to the astounded foreman.

"A piece along is a steep-walled gully with a'most no outlet," he explained. "Throw the cows, wagon, an' remuda in there, take cover at the entrance, an' wait. When yu don't show up, the Injuns'll come a-lookin' for yu. If yu can stand 'em off for a while, there's help on the way."

"Help?" ejaculated Jeff. "Where in blazes from?"

"I've sent for Rogue," Sudden replied. "Yu see, he's figurin' to lift this herd--presently, so he won't stand by an' let the redskins have it."

The foreman's troubled face broke into a grin. "Gosh! that's one bright idea, boy," he exclaimed. "We can deal with that damned outlaw later, but for the time we use him. What did the 0I' Man say?"

"I ain't got time even to tell yu what he didn't say," the cowboy smiled. "Get busy, ol'-timer, an' if anybody starts shootin' from behind the Injuns yu'll know that me an' Sandy is sittin' in."

He whirled his horse and raced for the far side of the trail. The foreman's gaze followed him reflectively. "Outlaw, huh?"he muttered. "Pity the damned country ain't got a lot more like him."

Riding ahead, he soon found the spot Sudden had described and saw its suitability. The floor of the gully lay below the level of the plain, which sloped into it, and the walls on either side were well-nigh vertical. The outlet at the far end was too rough and steep even for long-horns to attempt unless badly scared. The entrance was guarded by scrub and rocks which would afford good cover for the defenders. He saw no sign of Indians and surmised, rightly, that knowing the herd must come that way, they were not troubling to watch its progress.

Jeff waited there impatiently, having already given orders for the cows to be hustled along. Soon the leaders appeared, at a lumbering, clumsy trot, bellowing a protest against the unusual exertion. Hurriedly they were hazed into the gully as they arrived and left to their own devices. This took time, and the foreman cast many anxious glances up the trail. When, at length, the wagon and remuda followed the last of the cattle, he breathed more freely, and telling the outfit to hunt cover, sought his employer. He found him fuming.

"Ain't I the owner o' this herd no more, or are yu takin' orders from Green?" was his first question.

"Shore yo're the owner, an' I'm doin' my best to keep yu that," Jeff said tartly. "Yu gotta remember this, Sam, they may be yore cows, but the boys' lives are their own."

"Yu think that fella was talkin' straight?" Eden demanded.

"yeah, an' so would yu if yu weren't as prejudiced as hell," was the blunt reply. "Anyways, we'll know soon. The Injuns will have heard the cattle an' be wonderin' why we ain't turnin' up "

"Bah! I don't believe--"

The crack of a rifle cut him short and the foreman dashed to the entrance of the gully. The Infant, kneeling behind a ridge, was disgustedly reloading. He had, he claimed, seen a feathered top-knot above a bush some two hundred yards up the trail. Jeff returned to report.-

"That scout'll spill the beans," he said. "They'll be along plenty soon."

"Help me outa this an' reach my gun," the old man ordered. "Boss, yu ain't fit," the foreman protested.

"I can sit behind a rock just as well as in that blasted hell on wheels," Eden snorted. "Gimme a hand."

With Jeff's assistance he climbed out, walked weakly to the line of defence, and ensconced himself behind a boulder. The outfit cheered him lustily. As one of them put it, the Old Man might be short on temper, but he had grit enough for ten. As Jeff turned away, Judy had a last word :

"Tell that ornery man o' mine not to git hisself shot, 'cause I'm dependin' on him," she said.

But Peg-leg never got the message, for when the bearer emerged into the open, it was driven from his mind ; the enemy had grown tired of waiting. Down the trail from the east came a long line of mounted savages, their paint-smeared, copper-coloured bodies gleaming in the bright light. Each warrior carried the circular shield of buffalo hide, a bow, and a sheaf of arrows. Here and there came the flash of a gun-barrel--oldfashioned muzzle-loaders, bartered for skins, or gained in a raid on some solitary settlement. Save for an occasional shrill cry, the advance was made in silence.

"'Paches," the foreman decided. "Comanches would 'a' bin screamin' their dirty throats out." With the quick eye of one accustomed to count cattle he made a calculation. "Over fifty. Gosh! I'm hopin' Rogue don't dawdle any." He surveyed his slim line of defence anxiously. "Lie close, lads," he warned, "an' don't let loose' till I give the word ; we can't afford to miss."

Baudry, rifle in hand, had joined the cattleman. No one, looking at his passive, unconcerned features, would have guessed that all his carefully planned scheme depended upon the defeat of the redskins. With narrowed eyes he watched the far end of the line swing round until, with one screeching yell, the riders flogged their ponies into a dead run and charged full at the mouth of the gully. Like a wave of destruction the savages surged on and it seemed that the handful of whites must be swept away. Silent, grim-faced, with levelled weapons, they waited for the word. It did not come until the foe were less than a hundred paces distant, and then:

"Give 'em hell, boys," the foreman rasped.

The crash of the rifles was followed by exultant shouts from the marksmen as they saw bronze bodies go down before their bullets. The stream of lead disrupted the wave in the centre and the two halves curved left and right, replying to the rifles with a cloud of arrows, some of which sang past the ears ofthe white men. Out on the trail a half-dozen dead or wounded were stretched, and as many horses.

The redskins were soon on the move again. Strung out in a line they headed west and then whirled and raced their ponies across the gully mouth, each horseman, as he arrived opposite the opening, vanishing from sight.

"Where in hell they got to?" the Infant queried.

"Lyin' alongside the hoss, with a foot through the bellyband," Jeff explained, and added grimly, "Down the hosses, son, an' watch out for arrers."

The caution was needed, for from under the necks of the galloping ponies the red riders sent a succession of the deadly shafts, which whistled through the air and searched the cover. The defenders replied with their rifles, but the moving single marks were difficult to hit, and they did not meet with much success. The braves who had successfully crossed the firing-line swung up into their seats again and circled round to repeat the manoeuvre. From the far side of the trail two rifles crashed and the same number of ponies became riderless. The foreman chuckled.

"Jim an' Sandy is gettin' interested," he said.

His satisfaction was short-lived. From a clump of thorn ten paces distant came a gasping gurgle and the rattle of a dropped weapon. At the risk of his life, Jeff sprang to the spot, only to find he could do nothing. Crumpled up on the ground, an arrow through his throat, lay Silent. The foreman straightened the body, placed the hat over the face, and swore savagely. As he turned away, the Infant called:

"Hey, Jeff, pull this damn stick out--it hurts like blazes." An arrow had transfixed the boy's forearm. Snapping the shaft, the foreman drew out the barbed end, inspecting the edges of the wound closely. Then he nodded, and tied it up with a handkerchief.

"Mighta bin wuss," he said. "Keep down ; they've got Silent."

The procession of seemingly masterless mustangs had passed and a respite from the rain of arrows ensued. The Apaches were bunched together farther down the trail. The intermittent bark of two guns from the rear of the attackers indicated that Jim and Sandy were still interested. At the other end of the firing-line Jed was wrinkling his brow.

"Say, Dumpy, how many d'yu figure we've knocked over?" he asked.

"Well, yu ain't got any, but the rest of us has downed 'bout ten," was the answer.

For once his friend ignored an insult. "There's more'n twice that number layin' out there an' some of 'em is movin'," Jed asserted.

"Creased an' tryin' to crawl clear," Dumpy suggested.

"They wouldn't come this way," Jed objected. "No, sir, dropped off'n their broncs an' playin' dead so's they can sneak in an' rush us, that's what. The jigger with the eagle feather in his top-knot is five yards nearer than when I spotted him. I'm savin' him the trouble o' pertendin'."

Raising his rifle he pulled the trigger and they saw the brown body jerk convulsively, struggle, and flop back.

"Who fired?" Jeff asked sharply. "Wanta kill 'em twice over?"

Ere Jed could explain, the supposed corpses did it for him, seven or eight of the nearest scrambling to their feet and sprinting for their lives, zigzagging to escape the bullets the cowboys sent after them. Several were bowled over but the others regained their comrades.

"Good for yu, Jed," Eden called out. "I'm rememberin' it. I reckon they won't try that trick again."

As though they had been awaiting the result of this ruse, the Apaches began to show signs of fresh activity, massing together in readiness for another charge. Two rifles spoke from the opposing side of the trail and a brave toppled to the ,;round, while another jumped clear of his staggering pony.

"Well done, Jim an' Sandy," the foreman cried.

"yu figure it's them?" the cattleman asked.

"I'm damn shore," Jeff said stoutly. "If we git clear o' this it's them yu gotta thank, like it or not."

The savages were hesitating, the attack from the rear seemed to be bothering them. They were now galloping to and Fro, jabbering, gesturing, apparently discussing what action they should take. The matter was to be decided for them. From behind a hillock up the trail a band of more than a dozen riders emerged, spurring their mounts madly, and firing as they came.

At the sight of this reinforcement, the Indians, already discouraged by the resistance of the cowboys and the toll thetwo hidden marksmen were taking, broke and fled. With shouts and wild oaths the new-comers followed, ruthlessly shooting down the runaways. Their leader only did not join in the pursuit. Wheeling his horse, he rode to where the rancher was standing, and got down.

"Well, Eden, I reckon we didn't come any too soon," he said.

"I'd liefer yu hadn't come a-tall--we could 'a' beat 'em off without yu," the old man ungraciously retorted. "If * yo're lookin' for thanks yo're liable to be disappointed."

"I ain't," Rogue returned dryly. "But if yu warn't needin' me, why send?"

"I never did. If Sands came to yu--"

"It warn't Sands," the outlaw interposed. "A little runt of a fella, dressed in deerskin an' wearin' moccasins ; looked like a forest-runner."

"Ain't seen him," the rancher snapped. "I naturally figured Green would use his side-kick."

"So it was his idea, huh?" Rogue said reflectively, and chuckled. "It would be, o' course. Where is he?"

"I dunno, an' I care less," Eden told him. "I set 'em adrift when I learned they belong to yu."

"They don't--I wish they did," Rogue admitted. "I could use 'em, but it looks like they're still workin' for the S E."

"Waitin' for a chance to carry out yore orders an' drill me again, I s'pose?" the cattleman sneered.

"I'd no hand in that, Eden ; it's not my way," the outlaw said sternly. His face hardened. "I could take yore herd right now if I wanted."

"yu could take a slug through the gizzard now if I wanted," the old man growled, gripping his rifle suggestively.

Rogue looked at him in grim amusement. "An' what would that buy yu? My men, mebbe, ain't got my respect for youth an' beauty."

He removed his hat and bowed, either in real or pretended politeness, as Carol--anxious about her father--appeared. Baudry, who had apparently been to fetch her, was just behind. His eyes met those of the bandit leader for one brief instant -but his face was devoid of expression.

In twos and threes the rescuers were returning, whooping triumphantly, some of them waving ghastly trophies from which the blood dripped redly. They grouped themselves behind Rogue, their cruel, reckless faces alight with the lust of slaughter. The cowboys too rallied round their boss ; they did not like the attitude of these men who had come to their aid. Rogue alone seemed unconscious of any tension.

"We seem fated to meet in unpleasant circumstances, Miss Eden," he said easily, aware that by speaking to her he was rubbing the rancher on a raw place.

"My daughter don't wanta talk to a rustler," Eden said.

The girl gazed reproachfully at her angry parent. "He came to our assistance," she reminded. Her eyes widened as she saw that Rogue's wrist was torn. "you are hurt," she went on. "I've some bandages here--I got them ready, in case...."

"It's on'y a graze--not worth fussin' over," the outlaw muttered.

But Carol insisted, and Rogue's eyes regarded her curiously as she deftly bound up the wound.

"I'm obliged," he said gruffly.

"I got a scratch too," Navajo put in, his evil, leering gaze on the girl.

Rogue spun round. "Get to hell outa this," he hissed and before the deadly menace in tone and look the half-breed fell back.

The outlaw leader stepped into his saddle. "Well, so long, Eden," he said. "We'll be seem' yu. If yu bump into any more trouble, send, an' we'll come a-runnin'. This time we couldn't help ourselves ; next time, mebbe we'll be able to."

With this meaning jest he signed to his men and rode away, indifferent to the threatening growls which greeted it.

Chapter XXIII

THE herd went on, leaving behind one of the oblong heaps of rock which were only too frequent on the western trails. The rancher was hard to live with during the ensuing days. The loss of one of his men had depressed him ; he became moody, savage. The very thought that he had been placed under an obligation to one he despised as an outlaw, who made no secret of his intention to rob him, filled the old frontiersman with fury. He was troubled too with odd doubts in the matter of Green and Sandy.

Baudry also was far from happy, for Carol avoided him as much as possible, and was coldly courteous when she could not. But this, though it put a raw edge on his vanity, was not what most concerned him. It was several days after the Indian attack that he made an opportunity to speak with Dutt alone.

"Well, Monte, yu ain't lookin' too peart," was the greeting he received. "What's disturbin' yore rosy dreams?"

"I've told you not to use that name," the gambler growled. "So you are satisfied with the situation, eh?"

"Shore I am. Rogue has got this outfit where we want it, an' with those two cowboys in the discard, it looks like pie to me."

"Unless Rogue keeps the cows and sells them himself."

"At that, we're on velvet. Eden's busted an' we get the S E."

"And that damned outlaw picks up fifty thousand dollars or more. No, Davy, I'm not standing for that. I offered to take those cows at five a head and I'm going to have them. There's another danger, the damn fool is turning soft. Did you see his face when Carol tied his wrist up?"

"He certainly didn't seem to enjoy it as much as--yu might --for instance."

"Enjoy it? That was torture for him, it fetched back his past and showed him where he had dropped to. I don't suppose a good woman has stretched out a hand to him for years. She played a big card then, though she didn't know it. I was watching him and I tell you I wouldn't be surprised if he let Eden keep his cows for her sake."

Dutt was plainly incredulous. "Rogue's too tough to fall for a skirt," he said. "An' his men wouldn't let him ; we can see to it that they don't."

The gambler nodded. "Tell Rollitt to find Navajo and warn him. Rogue must steal the herd. Afterwards--we shall see. My share of that fifty thousand would pay for the wedding trip I have in mind, Davy."

"First catch yore bride," the other parodied.

"She'll come to heel, when her father is faced with finding a job," Baudry said.

"yo're probably right, but don't forget the fella they call Sandy is interested in that quarter."

The gambler shrugged his shoulders. "That cowboy? He's easy."

"Mebbe, but I wouldn't think it," Dutt replied. "An' he's got a friend--who ain't."

"Sudden, no, but if he shows his face in Abilene he'll be strung up and we'll split the reward two ways," Baudry smiled, tapping the pocket containing a certain printed notice.

"Suits me," Dutt agreed. "I'll search out Rollitt."

Camp was being struck and preparations made for the day's trek when Sudden and his two companions made their appearance, greatly to the astonishment of such of the S E outfit as were present.

For days since the encounter with the redskins they had trailed the herd, watched the crossing of a river which Tyson opined must be the Cimarron, a stream with an evil reputation but which they fortunately found not in flood.

The two cowboys had found the "still-hunter" more than useful. Not only had he kept them well supplied with game, but his knowledge of woodcraft made him an ideal spy on the outlaws. But he had not yet learned when they intended to make the final move. Sudden, however, guessed that the blow could not now be long delayed, and that was why he had ridden in. The rancher received him with a scowl.

"Eden, I want a word with yu," the cowboy said. "I'm goin' to put my cards on the table, an' yu'd better look at 'em."

Without waiting for assent, he dismounted and trailed the reins. The S E men silently ranged themselves by their employer. When Carol appeared, the cattleman would have sent her away, but Sudden intervened:

"I'd like Miss Eden to hear what I gotta say."

"We're going to listen to some more lies, eh?" Baudry sneered.

"Not unless yu say somethin'," came the acid retort. "This'll be the truth, though I misdoubt yu'll recognize it." He turned to Eden. "First, I gotta talk about myself."

Very briefly he told the tale of his adventures to the time he joined the S E outfit and the supercilious smile on the gambler's lips became more pronounced. When Sudden paused he laughed outright.

"Damned good," he jeered. "You ought to be writing dime novels. Why didn't you come out with this fine story then?"

"I couldn't prove it," the cowboy said simply. "An' I wanted to get outa the country."

"I'll bet you did," came the gibe. "Besides, you were working for Rogue."

Sudden raised his shoulders. "This fella claims he's goin' to ranch near yu," he said to Eden. "Did he mention his brand?" The old man shook his head. "Well, it don't signify--he told yore daughter. See here."

He picked up a half-burnt stick from the fire and in the sand at his feet traced the letters, S E. Then he joined up the ends of both, turning them into 8 B." "That's his iron," he said quietly. "Convenient, ain't it?"

Baudry's expression of amused indifference vanished. "By heaven, Sam, I never thought of that," he cried. "Comes of not being a cattleman."

It was well done, but his laugh met with no response ; brand-blotting was not a subject of mirth in that company. , "yeah," Sudden said ironically. "While I was stayin' with Rogue, his men brought in a bunch o' cattle to brand. As I told yu, they were feedin' me, so I did my share. They were supposed to be mavericks, but most of 'em was S E when they was thrown an' 8 B when they got up."

"Which only proves that Rogue was taking advantage of my ignorance to sell me stolen steers," Baudry pointed out. "Till the other day I'd never seen the fellow. I let it be known I wanted stock and took it for granted they would be unmarked strays."

"Rogue told me a man was payin' him to bust this drive an' was willin' to take all or any o' the herd," the cowboy went on. "Who gets yore ranch, Eden, if yu fail to put yore cattle through?"

The rancher started, and looked suspiciously at his guest. Baudry reached out a cigar, lit it, and laughed.

"Dime novel stuff," he said. "Prove it."

"Right," the other rejoined. "Eden, I want yore hoss-wrangler, Rollitt."

The gambler's eyes flickered. "Fetch him, Davy," he said.

"No," Sudden said sharply, and motioned to Jeff.

The foreman returned with the wrangler, whose shifty eyes widened when he saw the visitors. "Yu wantin' me?" he asked his employer.

"I'm wantin' yu," Sudden told him. "How long yu been in with Rogue?"

The abruptness of the question caught the fellow off his guard, but he recovered quickly, his look of alarm giving place to one of sullen obstinacy.

"Ain't never," he growled. "What yu gittin' at?"

"The truth," Sudden retorted. A gun seemed to leap into his hand. "Rollitt, I'm givin' yu a chance to come clean. If yu don't, I'll kill yu." The cold, merciless tone drove the threat home. The wrangler's gaze travelled round the circle of faces. "Nobody can help yu," the icy voice went on. "Whatever happens to me, yu'll be as dead as Moses."

Rollitt looked at the levelled gun ; if the thumb moved and let fall the hammer.... He was not the stuff of which heroes are made.

"Mebbe it's a year," he said huskily. "I broke away" The gun roared and a line of red on the man's cheekbone showed where the bullet had grazed him.

"The next lie will be yore last," the marksman warned. "yu've been watched, yu fool. What was the word yu took from that man"--he pointed to Dutt--"to Navajo?"

The nearness of death had shattered the ruffian's nerves. With trembling lips he mumbled the message: "Rogue is sellin' yu ; get busy with the boys an' strike quickly."

"That's a" Dutt began, and promptly subsided when he saw Sudden's eye upon him ; he did not relish the cowboy's method of dealing with liars.

"Well, Sam, are you taking the word of this gunman with a price on his head against me, Jethro Baudry, a respected citizen, and your friend?" the gambler asked coolly.

Before the rancher could reply another voice chimed in, and the little Indian-hunter thrust himself forward.

"Jethro Baudry, huh?" he piped. "When I see yu in Kansas City not so far back yu was Monte Jack, a card-cheat who skipped outa town two-three jumps ahead o' the Vigilantes, wanted for killin' a sucker yu'd trimmed--shot him under the table, didn't yu?"

Save that it was a shade more pallid, the gambler's face did not alter. "you are mistaken, my friend," he said.

"No friend o' your'n--never did cotton to coyotes, nohow," Tyson said bluntly. "Monte had a scar runnin' up his right arm from wrist to elbow, where a Mexican had tried to slipa knife into him. All red an' puckered it was, like the edges had been sewed up clumsy."

"Roll up yore right sleeve."

It was Sudden who gave the order, and his gun was again out. Baudry's face was livid; he knew the game was up--for the moment.

"No need--the scar's there," he admitted, and turned to Eden. "you win--for now, but don't forget I hold your paper." The rancher, whose rage had been steadily rising as the revelation of how he had been duped proceeded, boiled over at this.

"Yu dirty thief," he cried, and gripped his gun.

The threatened man jeered. "It would be a good way of paying your debt, wouldn't it?"

Eden's fingers released the weapon as though it had been red-hot. He glared at the scoundrel who had gauged him so correctly.

"yu'll get yore money--every cent of it--when I sell the herd," he promised. "yu needn't worry."

Baudry's lips curled in a wolfish snarl. "I don't propose to," he replied. "I'll have the money, the S E, and--anything else I want of yours." His eyes went to Carol as he made the insolent boast and the contempt with which she received the look swept away the barrier of his self-control. "you damned old fool," he gritted. "I'll make you curse the hour you quarrelled with me. I'll break you and grind your face in the dust. When Rogue has done with you"

"Rogue can speak for himself, Mister," came a quiet voice. The outlaw was standing there. So absorbed had everyone been in what was taking place that they had not seen him ride in and dismount. He addressed the cattleman:

"Far as I'm concerned, Eden, yore herd is safe," he began. "I can't speak for my men ; that toad there has poisoned 'em an' they've named a new leader."

"So you sneaked off here to save your hide?" Baudry sneered.

The outlaw's eyes flashed. "Best take care o' yore own," he said. "I don't owe yu money." He looked at Eden. "Jim has given yu the straight of it," he went on. "What yu aimin' to do with these rats?"

The cattleman gestured angrily to his foreman. "Clear 'em out," he ordered, and to Sudden, "Green, I'm takin' yore word, but yu ain't told who drilled me."

Sudden looked at Rogue, who' shook his head. "I don't know, seh," he replied. "But it warn't Sandy."

The rancher turned his hard eyes on that young man. "I ain't convinced," he said stubbornly, "but I'm willin' to be."

And with this grudging admission Sandy had to be content, but there was a welcome elsewhere which more than compensated ; Carol's eyes were friendly.

A word from the foreman sent the other men about their tasks, leaving the boss and the outlaw alone. An awkward silence ensued, broken at length by the visitor:

"Studying why I'm here, Eden?" he asked. "If yu think it's because o' that scum over there yu got another guess comin'. I'd 'a' stayed an' shot it out with 'em, but I thought I could undo some o' the harm I done yu."

The rancher's expression was frankly sceptical.

"Don't believe me?" the outlaw went on. "Dunno as I blame yu, but it's a fact. Ain't yu wondered why I let yu get so far after that fandango with the 'Paches? Well, I've been tryin' to persuade the boys that it would be a better play to let yu sell the cows an' then lift the dollars, trustin' yu could find a safe place for 'em. That card-sharp put a crimp in that an' here I am. What yu gotta say?" A The rancher hesitated ; he was not in the frame of mind to trust anyone, and this man had threatened to steal his cattle.

"yu can stay, but my men'll have orders to shoot yu at the first sign o' crooked work," he decided.

"That's on'y fair," Rogue said, and walked away.

Chapter XXIV

THE country stretched before them, flat, brown, uninteresting, but the trail-drivers found it satisfactory, since no danger could approach unseen. The herd, spread out fan-wise, moved slowly forward and Sam Eden--able to sit in a saddle again --pulling up his pony to watch the beasts pass, exulted as he noted their fine condition. Then he frowned as he remembered that catastrophe might yet overtake them. Behind the drag, Rogue was riding alone. The rancher joined him.

"What d'yu figure them coyotes will do?" he asked bluntly.

"We talked it over," the outlaw replied. "To attack on the march would shorely mean stampeding the steers ; we'd have to gather 'em again an' might lose quite a number--not all my men knows cattle. The other way was to wait till the herd was bedded down an' rush yore camp after dark ; the nightriders could be easy dealt with later. I'd say that's what they'll try, an' it'll be soon, mebbe to-night."

The rancher was silent for a while, furtively studying the hard face of this desperado who had striven for his ruin and was now, apparently, eager to help him. He could not understand it, and still suspected double-dealing.

"What yu know o' that fella Sands?" he asked.

"Mighty little," was the reply. "He drifted in one day, a piece before I met up with Green, and hung around. Didn't mix well with the rest--too clean, I reckon." He smiled and shook his head. "No harm to him ; just a boy gone a bit wild."

The cattleman grunted, his eyes travelling ahead to where the subject of their conversation was riding gaily by the side of the girl. Whatever his thoughts were he did not express them.

Hour after hour under the scorching sun the herd drifted on but evening brought them good fortune in the shape of a disrupted strip of plain, with a camp site which could be defended. The bare wall of a small bluff protected the rear, thick scrub shadowed by pines and cottonwoods, the two sides, leaving only the front open. Across this, after the wagon had been driven in, they dragged a couple of tall trees, felled for the purpose, the branches of which formed a leafy screen. Just past the bluff was a pool of water, residue of the last rain, and when the herd had satisfied its thirst, it was driven to a plateau nearby and bedded down, two men only being left in charge. A few horses, ready for instant use, were in a rope corral by the pond ; the others were turned loose.

Supper was eaten almost in silence, and hurriedly, each man with his rifle beside him ; at any moment he might have to jump up and fight for his life. Then the women were sent to lie down in the wagon and Eden posted his men, with a grim word of warning:

"Don't shoot till yo're shore," he said. "Then--get 'em."

Sandy, squatting beside his friend, voiced a complaint: "Hell! Don't yu want a smoke, Jim?" he asked.

"Didn't till yu mentioned it, damn yu," was the disgusted reply.

"I hope they show up--we won't find such a good place in a hundred miles."

"I'm bettin' they do--it's pretty near their last chance, an' with no moon, they'll figure on a surprise."

"They'll get it too," Sandy chuckled. "Where's Tyson?"

"Saw him siftin' into the brush," Sudden replied. "Gone to smell 'em out for us ; he's a four-eyed wonder in the woods."

The cowboy's guess was a good one. As soon as he had eaten, the forest-runner, with a word to Eden, had faded into the shadows, leaving his beloved Betsy behind. Now, prostrate on his belly, he wriggled a way through the brush, ears attentive to the slightest sound. For an hour or more he heard nothing but the scuttling of some disturbed denizen of the undergrowth, the hoot of an owl, and an occasional faint bellow from the herd.

Then came a new noise, one he had been expecting--the crack of a snapped dry twig, directly in front. Rising to his knees he drew the long, keen blade from his belt and waited. The bush beside him shook and a man on all fours appeared, pushing his rifle ahead of him. Swiftly, silently as a striking snake, the knife flashed and the victim, without even a groan, flattened out like a pricked bladder. Rollitt would rob no more.

The slayer callously jerked his weapon from the throat, wiped it on the dead man's shirt-sleeve, and thrust it into his belt. A muffled curse away to his left and another cracking of dried wood on his right told him that the marauders were getting close ; he must warn the camp. With infinite caution he retraced his path ; no one of the watching outfit saw him return, but the word was passed along.

Tense moments ticked by and from behind a cactus a shadowy, indistinct form appeared to gradually grow out of the ground. It saw what it expected--the glow of a fire, and round it, dark shapes of sleeping men. A low whistle brought other shadows, and then a dozen guns shattered the silence of the night, driving bullets into the artfully arranged blankets. To the attackers' surprise, no reply came.

"We must 'a' got most of 'em--there'd be several with th' herd," Navajo reasoned. "Come on, fellas."

Confident of success the outlaws emerged from concealment and dashed forward. This was the moment for which Eden had been waiting.

"Now," he called sharply.

From behind the barricade guns spat in a spiteful chorus and in the advancing line men dropped silently, or stumbled and cursed as they fell. Their leader, realizing that they had walked into a trap, turned and raced for cover again, calling to his men to do the same. A number succeeded, but motionless black blotches on the ground told that the attacking force had suffered. Silence again ensued, broken only by an occasional shot when a cowboy fancied he detected a movement in the scrub. Navajo was cursing.

"They was waitin' for us, burn their souls," he grated. "Somebody musta tipped 'em off--them fallen trees wasn't no accident. I'm bettin' it was Rogue, the...." A stream of obscenities followed, cut short by a glance at the sky. "Hell! th' moon'll be up in less'n half an hour an' they'll be able to pick us off like cottontails. We gotta rush 'em before then--it's our on'y chanct."

The charge was made, and met--as before--with a leaden shower, but this time the attackers were desperate. Though several dropped, the rest came on, climbed the barricade, and leapt down upon its defenders. Most of the combatants having emptied their weapons and reloading being an operation which required time, the battle became one of single-handed encounters in which guns and pistols served the purpose of clubs. Grunts, curses, and the thud of blows replaced the crash of exploding powder.

Sudden, having fired his last shot, bringing a man down, slipped aside just in time to get his head out of the path of a swinging rifle-butt. Ere the wielder of the weapon could recover his balance, the cowboy stepped in and drove a venomous fist to his jaw. The fellow collapsed limply, dropping like a sack of meal, and at the same instant, claw-like talons encircled Sudden's neck from behind, sinking into the flesh and shutting off his breath.

"Got yu, yu damned spy," came a sibilant hiss.

It was Navajo. With all his weight on the cowboy's back he was striving to fling him to the ground. Sudden knew that would be the end and fought desperately to keep his feet. But the strangling clutch on his wind-pipe was sapping his strength, his lungs ached for air, sharp pains pierced his eyeballs and sight seemed to be leaving him. With groping fingers he tried to loosen the half-breed's hold but it was of no use ; the relentless fingers might have been hooks of steel. Then, in despair, he savagely jabbed an. elbow backwards into the body behind him. The result was magical ; caught fairly in the solar plexus, Navajo's hands fell away, and he tottered back, gasping, helpless.

For some seconds the cowboy could do no more than suck air into his starved lungs, and then, seeing that his enemy was recovering, he ripped across a blow which sent the outlaw reeling to earth. Snarling curses, he sprang up, and as Sudden ran in, flung a handful of sand in his face, and bolted. For the moon was up and a quick glance had shown him that his men were scuttling like rabbits. Completely blinded by the stinging particles of grit, Sudden could do no more than express himself, stamping about, dabbing his smarting eyes with his neckerchief. So Sandy found him, listened awestruck for a moment, and then, with a mischievous grin, remarked:

"Don't yu take no notice, Miss Carol ; I reckon he's loco."

The irate cowboy whirled round, only to find he had been caught. The relief of the discovery restored his good-humour. Somewhat ashamed of himself, he explained the reason for the outburst.

* "Tough luck," the boy commiserated. "What yu goin' to do?"

"Search out that pond," Sudden replied. "I got half the Staked Plains in my eyes an' the other half down my neck."

"Hi, yu wait till we've fed," Sandy cried in affected alarm. "We gotta drink that water." He paused. "Not that I wanta stop yu from washin', Gawd knows."

Sudden chuckled. "Talkin' o' washin', I wonder how yu'd look with half yore head scrubbed?" he queried.

"Yu go to blazes," Sandy retorted. "Poison the whole damn herd if yu gotta."

The foreman arrived, bringing the news that save for sundry slight wounds and bruises, the outfit had come out of the ordeal unscathed. "I reckon we've discouraged them cattle-thieves a whole lot," he concluded grimly.

They had ; the struggling light of the dawn revealed the twisted, contorted bodies of seven men between the brush and the barricade. Two prisoners had been taken and now sat, withbound limbs, in a far corner of the camp. Rugged, ill-favoured rogues, both of them, stolidly refusing to answer questions. yet not without a certain courage. They knew what was to come and could joke about it. One of them had awakened the other.

"Take a look at yore last sunrise, Hank," he said. "yu don't wanta oversleep--it's goin' to be a mighty short day for us."

"Shucks!" the other replied. "We'll have a long night to make up for it, hombre."

They fed and smoked, interestedly watching the preparations for breaking camp. When the wagon rolled ponderously away, the foreman and three of the outfit remained behind with two unsaddled horses. Sudden, the last to leave, saw that the prisoners were lighting fresh cigarettes. He felt no pity for them ; they had gambled, lost, and must pay, but he had a swift vision of two limp forms dangling in the sunlight-shafted shade of the trees, and was aware of a chilly sensation in the region of his spine. He had come near to meeting the same fate, and would yet if the sheriff of San Antonio or of Fourways laid hands on him.

Chapter XXV

HE was a long, scraggy fellow of middle-age, with a thin humorous face, and his rig-out proclaimed that he had recently visited a settlement, clothes, saddle and weapons being patently new. He came into view as they were about to bed-down the herd, and Eden rode to meet him.

"Howdy, friend," the stranger opened, and then, as his gaze ranged over the milling horde of lean-limbed, fierce-eyed beasts, with their wide-branching horns, he added, "Where in hell have yu fetched 'em from?"

Eden laughed. "On'y from Texas," he said. "We passed through the place yu mentioned."

Karson--so the stranger named himself--told the rancher that Abilene was less than a dozen miles distant.

"Mebbe we can do business. I'm in these parts to buy cattle."

"I'm here to sell 'em," Eden replied, not too eagerly. The experiences of the past few months had made him distrustful The cattle-buyer slept in camp, having decided to accompany them on the final day's march. He advised that the herd be halted a couple of miles short of Abilene, where there was good grazing.

"She's the toughest burg I ever see--an' I've been in a few," he said. "yu wanta warn yore boys to stick together an' step light. Crooked men, women, an' games are as plenty as ticks on a cow."

Darkness was still distant when they sighted a haze of smoke on the horizon and realized that the end of the long trail was within reach. But no more than that, for until the herd was sold, the cowboys would lack money, and to visit town without anything to spend would be worse than not going at all. So. when the cattle were bunched and bedded on a raised stretch covered with short curly grass, it was but a small party which headed for Abilene ; Karson, Eden, and the women would stay the night there, and the foreman had urged that Sudden should go also.

"Like enough Baudry an' that Navajo fella is infestin' the place," he said. "'Sides, yu may need to send me a word."

They reached the town as dusk was falling. After months in the silent wilderness the noise and bustle amazed them. The principal street, a dusty strip between two rows of flimsy buildings, was ant-like in its activity, thronged with a hustling horde. Loaded freight wagons, driven by bull-voiced, blasphemous men churned up the surface, filling the air with a grey powdery deposit which covered everyone and everything ; reckless riders flickered to and fro, swinging their mounts dexterously around pedestrians ; at the hitch-rails stood rows of patient ponies, heads down, tails swishing in an endless battle against a myriad flies. From the windows of saloons. dance-halls, and gambling "joints" came a warm glow as the lamps within were lighted.

Karson conducted them to his hotel, where they secured rooms and dined. Then he carried the cattleman off to "take in the town." Eden, having warned his daughter to remain indoors, told Sudden he was at liberty to amuse himself. The cowboy did not like this arrangement, but could hardly protest.

Leaving the hotel, he mingled with the motley mob streaming along the street.

At the door of the Palace Saloon he hesitated a momentand then went in. Ordering a modest drink he leant against the bar, studying the ebb and flow of mixed humanity, drinking, gambling, and exulting or complaining as fortune favoured or flouted them. A bleary-eyed individual sidled up to him.

"yo're a stranger," he accused, shooting out a grimy finger. "Yu must be a magician," the cowboy quizzed.

"I ain't, but I savvy all the fellas in thisyer burg," the other replied. He pointed to a big, red-faced, flashily dressed man near the bar. "Know who that is? Mick Donagh, owner o' this joint. They say he's good for a hundred thousand dollars."

The corner of the cowboy's eyes crinkled up. "What of it?" he asked lazily. "I'd be good my own self for a lot less'n that."

The bleary citizen decided to take this in a friendly spirit ; the nonchalant young stranger did not look too easy.

"I'm bettin' yu would," he agreed. "Me too, don't yu reckon?"

This time he got it straight from the shoulder. "yu?" the cowboy drawled. "I'd figure yu good--for--nothin'."

The level look which accompanied the contemptuous speech apprised the bleary one that he had selected the wrong victim, and muttering something about "fresh fellas," he drifted away. His place was soon taken by a short, pot-bellied man with mean little eyes and a ludicrous air of importance.

"I'm the town marshal o' thisyer city," he began pompously.

Sudden regarded him gravely. "That so? What am I s'posed to do--throw a fit--or somethin'?" he inquired.

The marshal's bloated face got redder. "I can tell yu what yu ain't s'posed to do an' that's wear them guns," he snapped. "It's agin the law. I'll trouble yu to hand 'em to me."

Sudden's eyes narrowed. "I hate trouble," he said. His gaze swept over the room, noting that nearly every man in it wore a weapon. "Why start on me? Clean up on them others an'--I'll think about it."

"yo're a new-comer ; I know them fellas," was the lame reply. "yeah, that's where the rope rubs--I don't know 'em," the cowboy said quietly. "See here, marshal, I'm attached to my guns an' they're attached to me"--he smiled--"partin' would be--difficult. Don't yu reckon yu'd better take a drink instead?"

Looking into those frosty grey-blue eyes and observing the lean, out-thrust jaw, the officer discovered that he was thirsty

"I'm trustin' yu not to raise no ruckus," he said.

"Marshal, I'm a li'I woolly lamb long as folks treat me right," the cowboy assured him.

Having absorbed his liquor, the keeper of the peace went in search of another, and presently Sudden saw him in converse with two men whose entrance he had not noticed-Baudry and Dutt. Even as he caught sight of them they were moving towards him. The gambler opened the ball:

"Yes, marshal, that's the man," he said. "Known as `Sudden' in Texas, and wanted for cold-blooded murder and robbery."

"An' that fella, marshal," parodied the cowboy, "is Monte Jack, a tin-horn who was run outa Kansas City for shootin' a pilgrim he had cheated."

Baudry drew himself up. "That's not true," he protested. "This is," Sudden rasped, his open hand striking the gambler on the cheek with a crack like a pistol-shot.

Staggering back under the force of the blow, his face livid with passion, Baudry clawed at his shoulder-holster. Dutt flung his arms round him.

"Don't be a fool, Monte, he'll get yu," he cried.

At the name unwittingly used the marshal's pig-like eyes widened. He snatched out his own gun.

"If there's any shootin' here, gents, I'm doin' it," he announced. "Settle yore differences outside."

"Good enough," Sudden said, and looked at Baudry. "At eight to-morrow mornin' I'm walkin' down the street ; if yu ain't lost yore nerve an' skipped by then, yu can come an' meet me."

"I'll be there," Baudry spat out.

Followed by curious glances--for the fracas had attracted attention--Sudden left the saloon. At the hotel he found Eden and told him only that the gambler was in town.

"Glad of it," the rancher said. "I can square my account with the dirty sneak an' be a free man again."

Abilene, on the following morning, presented an unwonted appearance of emptiness, save on the sidewalks of the principal street where a number of daring souls had lined up ; others, whose courage did not equal their curiosity, contented themselves with the windows and doors of the buildings. For the news of the challenge had quickly spread and a crowd hadcome to see one man kill another, and to wager on the result.

An excited whisper ran through the throng when, on the stroke of eight, the cowboy walked from the hotel to the middle of the street. That he was a famous gunman from the south was already known to all. For an instant he stood there, his arms hanging down, fingers almost touching the butts of his guns. Silence seized the spectators as, a hundred yards away, another man was seen to be unhurriedly approaching. So the gambler had not gone. Sudden's lips tightened.

The seconds ticked on, each bringing one of the men, or both, nearer eternity. The onlookers gazed breathlessly as the gap between the combatants lessened. Then the angry bark of a pistol smashed into the silence and Sudden's hat was swept from his head. Almost without looking, the cowboy drew and fired, and a man who had stepped into view round the corner of a store reeled and went down, his smoking gun clattering on the boards, It was David Dutt, and a howl of disgust came from the nearest. spectators when they realized the treachery he had attempted. Sudden himself, bareheaded and swinging the revolver loosely in his fingers, paced steadily on. He had eyes only for the man he was going to meet.

To Jethro Baudry, the failure of the plot was a crushing blow ; it had seemed so sure and easy to explain : an unknown enemy, seizing the opportunity to pay a debt. Why had Dutt let himself be seen, and above all, why had he missed? Savagely he cursed the man who had died for him, and gazed with anxious, haggard eyes at the advancing figure.

Step by step the cowboy came on, relentless, inevitable as death itself. A cold sweat oozed from the gambler's forehead and his heart seemed to become a lump of ice. He had killed, and was no novice in gunfights, but they had been quick affairs, over in a moment or two, allowing no time for thought ; the deliberation of this encounter called for a courage he did not possess. Forty yards--thirty--twenty--damnation, would the fellow never stop? He felt like a condemned criminal. awaiting execution, and watching the leaden hours creep by, but in his case they were moments, seconds, and at that thought he pulled up.

"Can't miss at this distance," he muttered, and wondered who had spoken.

He tried to raise the gun he was carrying but found he could not ; it seemed to weigh a ton. His antagonist was now only a dozen paces away and he could see the grim, grey face and narrowed ice-cold eyes. A shiver shook him as he realized that he was nothing more than a target. Already he seemed to feel the scorching, blinding pain of lead tearing through his body. Desperately he made another effort to fire but his paralysed muscles refused to act, and in a panic of frenzied fear, he dropped the weapon, flung up his arms, and bolted. Staggering, slipping in the loose dust, expecting every instant the numbing jar of a bullet in his back, he did not hear the yell of derision which followed him as he vanished behind a convenient building.

The cowboy watched him go, a mingled expression of contempt and doubt on his face.

"I figured him right," he said to himself. "Allasame, I'd oughta got him."

Men crowded round the victor, patted him on the back, invited him to drink, and hailed him as a good fellow. Dutt, they told him, was dead, with a bullet between the eyes, and all agreed that it was less than he deserved. Sudden had hard work to get away from his admirers, but he pleaded that he had a job, and his boss was waiting for him. Which was no more than the truth, for on returning to the hotel, he found Eden and the buyer ready to ride out and inspect the herd.

"I'm glad yu didn't kill him, Jim," the rancher said. "It would 'a' looked like yu were payin' my debt."

"It may come to that yet," Sudden told him.

"yu don't think he's finished?" Eden asked.

"There's on'y one way to keep a rattler from bitin'," was the meaning reply.

Karson was evidently of the same opinion, for as they passed the scene of the gambler's humiliation, he said:

"yu oughta rubbed that fella out like a dirty mark, which is what he is ; it was a plain frame-up."

"I expect yo're right, seh," Sudden agreed.

When they reached the camp, Eden had the cattle lined out and driven past, he and the buyer counting independently. Their figures nearly tallied.

"Call it two thousand, two hundred," the rancher offered. "Good enough," Karson nodded. "They're a likely lot an' in fair fettle, but I on'y want four-year-olds--twenty-five a head."

Eden's face fell ; this meant taking the pick of his herd and leaving him with the less saleable residue.

"That ain't a square offer an' yu know it, Karson," he said bluntly. "Gimme an all-over price of twenty an' take the lot. With the northern ranches yelpin' for stock, yu can't lese."

The buyer took one look at the cattleman's stubborn jaw. "Yu know yore business," he smiled. "I was hopin' yu'd let 'em go for fifteen."

"I've been lookin' at cows' rumps since I was weaned," Eden grinned. "Well, what do yu say?"

"It's a deal," Karson replied, aware that he had made a good bargain. "Of course, yore boys'll hold the herd here till I can arrange for shippin'? Good."

The news that the steers they had safeguarded through so many vicissitudes were actually sold caused great jubilation among the cowboys, and the difficuLties of the trail were made light of in a way which vastly amused the buyer.

"Trouble?" Jed echoed in answer to his question. "Why, nothin' to notice. O' course, cows git contrary an' thinks they knows a better road than the one yo're takin' 'em, but yu expect that."

I heard somethin' about Indians," Karson smiled.

Jed's bony face was sardonic. "Mebbe we had to flap a blanket now an' then to scare them critters off," he confessed.

And Karson, who had been told much of the real story, grinned delightedly and distributed cigars all round.

"yu'll do," he said. "If ever J want a herd o' real classy liars I'll come to Texas."

They saw nothing of Rogue. He had, the foreman said, ridden off the previous afternoon and had not re-appeared. The news brought a frown to the rancher's face ; he still distrusted the outlaw.

When the party returned to town, Sandy--at Sudden's suggestion--went with them. Eden was to receive payment for his cattle at once, and had announced his intention of taking charge of the money himself. Banks were few and far between in Texas and he had little faith in such institutions. So he tucked the big roll of bills into an inside pocket and tapped the butt of his gun meaningly.

"Any fella who tries to lift those off'n me will shorely get a shock," he boasted.

From this resolution he could not be turned, even by his daughter, who was obviously apprehensive of the risk he was running.

In the back room of a Mexican dive at the other end of the town, Navajo, with contemptuous amusement on his thin lips, listened to the stumbling excuses of the man before him.

"Can't think what came over me, but I couldn't have raised my gun for a million dollars," Baudry said. "Never felt like it before ; I must have been sick."

"yu shore looked it, but for a sick man yu ran almighty well," the half-breed sneered.

The gambler's eyes grew malevolent. "I'm not sick now, Navajo," he warned.

"Glad to know it," was the reply. "yu'll be better able to bear the shock o' hearin' that Eden has sold his herd an' got the mazuma. To put it plain, we're beat"

If he meant to anger his companion he did not succeed ; Baudry was regaining his habitual veneer of imperturbability.

"Quite a slice of that money is mine," he said, "and, do you know, I believe the old fool would pay up."

"Better ask him, but mind Mister Sudden ain't around or yu'll be meetin' Dutt mighty soon."

"So it was Davy?" the gambler mused. "I suspected it. Well, he was always fond of me. How many would do a thing like that for you, Navajo?"

"Not one, even if I asked," the half-breed replied, with an incredulous laugh ; he was not deceived. "I do my own dirty work."

"But you got Lasker to shoot his employer," came the reminder.

"I offered him a price--same as yu did me," Navajo said sullenly.

Baudry's brows went up. "you are in error, my friend," he pointed out. "I made a bet with you--quite a different thing, and you look like losing it. I shall deduct the amount from your share of the herd-money."

The outlaw straightened up. "yu are goin' to get it?"

"What else did you think?" the gambler retorted. "yes, I am going to get it--the money, the ranch, the girl, trample Eden in the dirt, and kill that damned gunman."

The mask was off now, showing a face white with rage,hatred in the eyes, and the thick lips drawn back in a feral snarl.

"Why not run the herd. off too, while yo're about it?" Navajo asked mockingly.

"Too risky--we'd have the whole damn place on our tails," snapped the other. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt Eden--he's been paid--and it's his scalp I'm after. If you don't care to come in, I can swing it alone."

"Oh yeah," the half-breed gibed. "yu'll do some swingin' alone if yu show yore face in town ; that frame-up ain't made yu one bit popular. Well, let's hear yore plan."

For some time Baudry talked earnestly, and when he had finished, sat back and looked triumphantly at his confederate.

Navajo nodded. "yu can count me in," he said shortly.

His malignant gaze followed the gambler as he went out. "yellow-bellied coyote," he muttered. "yu'd sell yore own sister for ten cents, an' right now yo're figurin' to double-cross me. That's a game more'n one can play at, an' when I pull a gun runnin' won't save yu."

Then he too left the place, slinking along behind the buildings until he reached his destination.

Chapter XXVI

SOON after dark that same evening, a Mexican lad slid into the Palace Saloon and made his way to where Eden and Sandy were watching a game of poker in which Karson was taking part. Twitching the rancher's sleeve, the boy whispered:

"Meestair Green wantin' yu, pronto--outside."

Without waiting for an answer he darted away. Telling his friend he would be back, Eden started for the door, and Sandy stepped after.

"No need to drag yu away, boy," the cattleman said.

"I'm comin'," Sandy replied. "Jim's word was to stick to yu like yore shadow."

"Shucks, I've had too much nussin' lately," Eden laughed, and as he stepped into the street and looked round, "Where in blazes is he?"

A blurred shape detached itself from the gloom, an arm snapped viciously down and the rancher dropped like a poleaxed steer. Sandy grabbed at his gun, but before he could get it out three men sprang upon him. Uttering a lusty yell for help, he flung his fists right and left, and had the satisfaction of hearing a grunt of pain follow each blow. His shout brought other citizens and these hurled themselves enthusiastically into the battle. Since they knew neither the cause nor the combatants, they were soon fighting each other and were of no use to those they had come to assist.

Standing astride his employer's body, Sandy struggled on, wrenching himself free from clutching hands and driving his fists vengefully into indistinct faces. But it could not last. From behind came a bitter oath in a voice he remembered, and ere he could turn, a sweeping blow with the barrel of a pistol sent him down.

It was at this moment that Sudden, who--deeming the rancher safe with the other two--had gone to comb the town in search of Rogue or Navajo, heard that there was trouble at the Palace and came to investigate. He found an excited group outside, many bearing marks of the conflict, gathered about two senseless men.

"What happened?" he asked a bystander, who was wiping blood from his cheek.

"Durned if I know," was the reply. "There was a shindy, so I sat in--never could keep out'n a scrap, nohow. Then three-four fellas ran away an' I found I was fightin' a friend. Do yu know them hombres?"

The light of a match confirmed the cowboy's fears. "Hell, yes, one of 'em is my boss," he said, and made a hurried examination. "They ain't cashed, anyways."

Karson was found and the injured men carried to the hotel. "This is a bad business, Green," the cattle-buyer said. "I s'pose they got the money?"

"Reckon so--it's gone."

"He was askin' for it ; yu can't keep anythin' quiet in this place. It was known he'd sold his herd an' these scallywags took the chance he'd have a fat wallet. I oughta stayed with him, but poker's a fair curse with me."

Sudden did not undeceive him. His own mind was full of conflicting conjectures. Baudry, Navajo, or even Rogue might have planned this latest development, and that it was one ormore of them he was convinced. Bitterly he reproached himself for allowing the gambler to escape.

At the hotel they found Aunt Judy in a state bordering on frenzy: Carol was missing. When she saw the two unconscious men, her hands went up in the air and she called down a curse on Abilene which should have wiped the town off the face of the earth. Having acquitted herself like a man in this direction, she promptly became a woman again.

"Lemme look at him." She scrutinized the rancher's injury. "Huh! Must 'a' bin a stranger ; nobody as knowed him would try to kill Sam Eden by hittin him on the head."

She bathed and bandaged the hurts and was just through with Sandy when he sat up and asked weakly:

"Where's Jim?"

"Dunno," Judy snapped. "Gone to get his head busted, I reckon. 'Pears to be the on'y use yu men got for 'em."

The sarcasm was excusable, but applied to Sudden, unjust. He unearthed a grubby urchin who ran errands and did chores at the hotel, and learned that a lady had called to see Miss Eden about two hours earlier and that they had gone out together. Asked if he knew the visitor, the boy hesitated.

"She gimme a dollar not to say," he admitted.

"I'll give yu two dollars," Sudden offered, and reading the youthful mind, added, "Yu can give hers back an' say yu changed yore mind ; that'll make it right"

This somewhat specious reasoning satisfied the boy. "They call her `Lily Gold' an' she rooms with Mammy Porter, opposite the drug store," he said. "I -guess she ain't much class."

Sudden returned to the sick-room. Eden was still unconscious but breathing easily. Sandy was in a fever to see his friend.

"Jim," he cried, "Navajo was there--I heard his voice. Damnation, they've got Carol. What we goin' to do?"

"yu'll stay here," Sudden replied. "I've got a line on the girl an' I'm goin' after her, right now."

He told what he had learned and Aunt Judy snatched up her bonnet. "I'm a-comin'," she stated. "No use yu arguin', Jim Green ; yu may be able to tackle a man but it takes a woman to handle a woman. I can't do nothin' more for these two saps."

With a face which might have been carved from a block of wood she followed the cowboy down the street. They found the house, a two-storied, ramshackle frame building. The door was opened by a stout, middle-aged negress.

"Mis' Gold is upstairs but she ain't seein' nobuddy," she told them.

"She'll see us," Sudden said, and slipping a coin to the woman's hand, pushed past.

They found Miss Gold smoking a cigarette and lolling in an arm-chair. Not yet thirty, she still had charm of a kind, but her once pretty face had become hard, predatory, and her yellow hair was obviously dyed. The silken frock which revealed too much of her opulent figure was shabby and the high-heeled satin shoes were rubbed and worn. She greeted her unannounced guests with a stare of surprise. *

"And who the hell may you be?" she asked belligerently. "That don't matter," the cowboy 'said. "We wanta know what yu've done with Miss Eden?"

"Don't know the lady," the girl replied insolently, but there was a flicker of fear in her eyes.

"Lyin' won't help yu," Sudden said evenly. "We know that yu called on her an' that she left the hotel with yu." Lily Gold studied him appraisingly. Usually she found cowboys easy to handle, but this one seemed different ; her wiles would have no effect on him.

"Oh, that kid," she said. "I showed her round a bit and then she said she wanted to do some shopping. I expect she had a fellow to meet."

Her sneering laugh was rudely cut short. Aunt Judy thrust Sudden aside. Her eyes were blazing.

"Lemme talk to her," she said. "Listen, yu dance-hall drab. Do yu know how the Injuns serve women o' yore sort? They slice their noses off, an' yu can take it from me it don't improve their looks any--I've seen 'em." Her left hand shot out and fastened like a claw on a bare shoulder, digging into the soft flesh and forcing the girl back in the chair, while her right jerked an eight-inch bowie knife from the bosom of her dress and flashed it before her prisoner's frightened eyes. "Come clean, yu slut," she raged, "or by the livin' God I'll make yore face somethin' for men to shudder at."

The harsh discordant voice, fierce angular features, and set grim lips told that it was no mere threat, and the dance-girlwho would have face a furious man and told him to do his worst--shrank back in stark terror from this fiend in femaleshape. Out of the raddled, bloodless mask on which the patches of paint stood out with startling distinctness, her terrified gaze travelled to the cowboy.

"She'll do it," she whimpered. "She's mad. Call her off."

"I ain't interferin'," Sudden said sternly. "It's up to yu." The girl was shaking. "There's men in town who'll hang you for this," she panted.

"Mebbe, but that won't put yore nose back," Judy retorted, and raised the knife.

The story came tumbling out. She had been paid to lure the victim to a certain Mexican dive, the bait being that a cowboy named Sandy had been badly hurt in a brawl. Two men had met them there, seized Miss Eden and ridden away. One of the men was Baudry ; the other a stranger.

"Where have they taken her?" Sudden barked.

"How the hell do I know?" the woman snapped, and then shrieked as the steel gleamed before her eyes.

"There's an old shack out on the plain, about two miles due north," she gasped. "I heard them mention it. That's all I know. Get out, damn you. Get out!

Aunt Judy looked at her. "If yu've lied, or they've harmed Carol, I'll find yu an' cut yore rotten heart out if I swing for it," she promised.

When they had gone, the woman staggered to her feet, flung open a cupboard, and pouring out a stiff dose of spirit, gulped it eagerly.

"Christ! I wanted that," she muttered. "What a devil, and she meant it! I'll have to get away, pronto. If they've hurt that kid"

Hurriedly she began to throw her few possessions into a bag. Miss Gold was taking no more chances ; she was attached to her nose and wished to remain so.

When Sudden and Aunt Judy reached the hotel the cowboy turned to her and said meaningly:

"I'm gettin' my hoss an' follerin'. This is a man's job."

To his great relief, she uttered no protest. Her violence seemed to have evaporated ; she had resumed her sex. "yu'll bring her, Jim, won't yu?" she pleaded. "An' yu won't say nothin' to nobody 'bout me gittin' peeved back there?"

"Why, yu done noble," Sudden replied. "I'd never 'a' got the truth outa that dame."

"Mebbe, but I misdoubt I behaved like a lady oughta."

Sudden, saddling his horse a few moments later, was moved to express his thought:

"Nig, I reckon in choosing a hoss, a friend, or a wife, looks oughta come way down in the list, ol'-timer."

In a lonely, tumble-down cabin to the north, lit by a guttering candle stuck with its own grease to the rickety table, two people were facing one another. Carol Eden, her hands bound, leaned against the wall, contemptuous, defiant.

Baudry, seated upon an up-ended box, regarded her with a fiendish smile of exultation. As the fitful light set the shadows dancing about the room, now revealing and then half concealing her disdainful form, his sense of satisfaction grew. He had sworn to have her and here she was. Soon they would be away--headed for civilization, and by the time they reached it ... Affairs had not gone quite as he had planned, but with the girl, the herd-money, and the mortgage on the S E in his possession, he would take most of the tricks. But first he must deal with the half-breed, the man who had jeered at and taunted him.

"Sit down," he ordered, pointing to a second box on the other side of the table.

"I prefer to stand," Carol replied. "I can keep farther away from you."

The man smiled tolerantly. "When you're my wife, you'll know me better," he said.

"Impossible!" she cried. "What else are you besides liar, cheat, and coward?"

This time the scorn in her low vibrant voice seared him. He stood up and stepped towards her, slowly, like some wild beast about to pounce on its helpless prey. Staring at him with fear-wide eyes, she backed away until she could retreat no more. The gambler's gaze dwelt gloatingly on the lissome, rounded form.

"I'm a man who can tame women and make them do as I wish," he said softly. "In a little while you'll come creeping to me for a kind word and be happy if you get it, though now you dislike me."

"Dislike?" the girl echoed passionately. "I hate and despise you."

The nearness of her intoxicated him and he laughed evilly as his hands darted out, prisoning her arms. The feel of thefirm flesh beneath his fingers fired his blood and sent his hot lips questing for hers. Mad with terror and loathing, she fought to avoid them, but bound, and held in that grip of steel, could do little. Drunk with desire, he tore open her shirt-waist and rained kisses on her bared neck.

"I'll teach you, my beauty," he panted thickly.

And then, when she had given up hope, he flung her violently from him. A horse had whickered outside.

Chapter XXVII

DAZED and weak, Carol saw her assailant fall into a half-crouch his gun drawn, death in his eyes. She tried to shout a warning but no sound issued from her dry, throbbing throat. The door was flung open, Baudry fired, and the new-comer stumbled, coughed, and slithered to the floor, a pistol dropping from nerveless fingers. After a moment's pause, the killer bent over him.

"Rogue?" he muttered. "Wonder how he got wise? Well, that's a debt I was afraid I'd have to leave unpaid. Where the hell is Navajo?"

"Right here," the half-breed replied from the doorway, and stepped noiselessly into the cabin. His mean eyes rested callously on the supine form of his late leader. "That saves me a job but I ain't thankin' yu."

"Did you get Eden?"

"I reckon---'less his head's made o' rock," the ruffian replied. "The crack I gave him would 'a' split the skull of an ox."

"Hope you haven't overdone it," Baudry said viciously. "It will hurt him more to live."

"Mebbe, but that fella Sandy came out o' the saloon with him an' fought like a wildcat. With townsfolk joinin' in we had to do the best we could," the half-breed explained, and tapped his pocket. "We corralled the cash."

Dull despair took possession of the prisoner. Her father injured, probably dying, and Sandy.... For since the woman Gold had brought that lying message, Carol had comprehended what the cheerful young cowboy had come to mean to her, and the thought that she might never see him again turned her heart to lead.

"you did well, Navajo," the gambler said. "If we'd got that devil, Sudden, it would be a clean-up."

"I'll tend to him," the other said darkly. He threw a roll of bills on the table. "We split that two ways an' then settle about the gal."

Baudry jerked round as though he had been spurred. "She goes with me," he answered harshly.

"Mebbe, after we've cut the cards for her," Navajo replied.

In the flickering light of the candle he could not see the murderous gleam in the other's eyes, but he knew it was there. At the moment he saw Rogue's body he divined that the outlaw had saved his--Navajo's--life, and that Baudry would kill him if he could. So, when his proposal was agreed to, he watched yet more warily.

"Have it your way," the gambler said quietly. He produced a pack of cards and squared them up on the table. "Help yourself. Highest wins. Sudden death."

"yu said it," the half-breed assented.

The fingers of his left hand closed over the cards, gripping them gently. A touch told him they had been prepared--the ends and sides of some of them treated with a file, so that the man who knew what had been done could cut high or low as he desired. He knew now why Baudry had given in, but it made no difference to his plan. He hesitated only for an instant and then lifted the whole pack and hurled it in the other man's face.

"Cold-deck me, would yu?" he cried, and snatching out his gun sent two bullets into the gambler's breast.

Grimacing horribly, hands reaching blindly for support, the stricken man collapsed like a house of cards, shuddered convulsively once, and was still. Navajo's smile was that of a demon.

"Sudden death it was," he said hoarsely, and turned to the girl, only to find her unconscious upon the floor. The tragedies she had witnessed, added to the mental torture of the past few hours, had proved too much for even her Western nerves.

Stuffing the roll of money into a pocket, the half-breed stood gloating over his captive for a moment or two, his lewd eyes dwelling on the graceful curve of her neck and the rounded white shoulder which Baudry's brutality had left exposed.

"A pretty piece--an' mine--now," he exulted evilly. "Well, beautiful, we'll be on our way."

Lifting the limp form, he carried it to where the gambler's horse was hitched outside the hut, and roped it to the saddle. He was about to mount his own beast when he remembered something ; both the dead men would have money. He went back and was kneeling by the side of Baudry when a word rang out like a pistol-shot:

"Navajo!"

Sudden was standing in the doorway, a gun levelled from the hip. The icy passionless voice fell on the outlaw's ears like a death-knell. Though he had bragged to Baudry, he feared this cold-eyed young cowboy who had so quickly gained a reputation as a gunman. "Sudden death!" The phrase recurred to him with a new and ominous significance. Bitterly he cursed himself for his delayed departure ; but for his greed .. .

"yu can stand up."

Navajo rose slowly to his feet, his devious mind searching for a way out.

"These hombres 'pear to have bumped each other off," he said. "I was just seein' if they was cashed."

Still keeping the man covered, Sudden picked up Rogue's gun ; it was fully loaded ; the butt of Baudry's weapon could be seen protruding from its shoulder-holster. He looked at the half -breed.

"Rogue reloaded an' Baudry put his gun back after they were killed," he said sarcastically.

"I was guessin'--on'y bin here a few minutes an' found 'em like this," the man replied sullenly.

"So it wasn't yu who carried Miss Eden out?"

"Yeah, I was meanin' to take her back."

"Tied to the saddle?"

"Couldn't do no other way--she'd fainted."

"An' the herd-money. Takin' that back too?"

"Dunno nothin' about it "

Sudden laughed scornfully. "yo're a pore liar, Navajo," he said. "Hand over yore gun."

The ruffian stiffened. He remembered now that he had fired twice and had not replaced the charges. An examination of the weapon would produce apparently conclusive evidence and ... During the conversation he had been edging backwards an inch at a time. Now, with a quick sweep of one arm, he knocked the candle from the table and dropped prone to escape the expected bullet. None came, only a taunting voice:

"Fine! Figured yu'd play it that way when I saw yu sneakin' back. Don't waste no shots, Navajo ; yu on'y got four."

Sudden was surmising, but correctly, and the outlaw gritted his teeth at the reminder. He must be sure, and how could he be in that blinding blackness? For there was no light ; even the tiny unglazed window could hardly be located, so dark was the night outside. Flat on his belly the half-breed lay motionless, waiting for some movement which might betray his enemy's whereabouts.

An idea came to him--Baudry's gun. If he could obtain that and fire four shots, Sudden would deem him defenceless, and ... He knew the direction in which the body lay and began to make his way towards it. Hardly daring to breathe, he crawled on inch by inch, feeling cautiously for obstacles. It was a blood-chilling task, for the slightest sound might bring first the agony of tearing hot lead, and then--death. At length his groping fingers touched a still face, travelled downwards and found a shoulder-holster--empty. He stifled the curse which rose to his lips, and edged away.

"yu ain't a quick thinker, Navajo," the taunting voice said "I've got Baudry's gun."

In his rage and disappointment the half-breed fired at the spot where he judged the speaker to be. An answering spit of flame stabbed the gloom and a bullet nicked his neck. The voice spoke again :

"Near thing, Navajo. A mite to the right an' yu'd be travellin' the one-way trail.' The incident shook the outlaw's confidence. Hell! if the fellow could see in the dark ... And he had wasted a shot, for though the silence was profound again he knew that he had missed. The thought of what his cupidity had cost carne back to torment him: wealth, possession of the girl, for whom he had hungered since first he laid his leering eyes upon her, freedom. He visioned the pair of them riding into the trackless wilderness and his lips went wide in a lecherous grin. Then he came to earth again and blasphemed at the reality ; he was trapped, likely to lose all, even life itself.

Lying there in the stillness so pregnant with danger he flogged his faculties to find a device to extricate himself and, at length, hit on a plan. It would be a desperate risk but heresolved to take it. And he must act at once, for he knew that his courage was ebbing ; the jeering devil waiting so patiently to kill him was his master. Rising swiftly to his knees, he fired and swayed away instantly. Sudden aimed at the flash, heard the thud of a falling body, and a deep groan. Five--ten minutes passed and no sound came. The cowboy moved a foot noisily but nothing happened.

"Looks like I may've got him," he muttered.

Groping on the floor, he found the candle and lighted it. Navajo was lying on his side, his face buried in the bend of his left arm, his right arm hidden under his body. His gun lay some feet away. In the uncertain light he appeared to be dead. Sheathing his pistol, Sudden stooped to turn the body over. Instantly it came to life, the right hand darting upwards in a vicious stab. With a lightning snatch the cowboy clutched the wrist, wrenched it aside, and springing back, pulled and fired. Navajo, his face ferociously distorted in a murderous grin, sank back. This time there was no doubt.

Chilled to the bone by the narrowness of his escape, Sudden leant against the wall. Had he delayed an instant, or missed the deadly thrusting wrist, eight inches of steel would have ripped him open. He drew a long breath and wiped the cool moisture from his forehead. Then he looked at the dead man with an odd respect.

"Didn't figure yu had the savvy for a play like that," he mused. "Yu fooled me plenty an' a'most deserved to get away with it, though I'm just as pleased yu didn't."

He searched for and secured the stolen money, and then the sound of a galloping horse straightened him up, gun in hand. It was Sandy who thrust open the door.

"Jim, yu all right?" he called.

"yeah, an' it's lucky," Sudden reproved. "If any o' these other hombres had been on their feet instead what would 'a' happened to yu, bustin' in like that? Ain't yu got nothin' but sawdust in that red head?"

"Where's Carol?" the boy asked, disregarding the aspersion. "Outside--tied to a hoss," Sudden told him, adding grimly, "I've been too busy to turn her loose."

Sandy's eyes widened as he looked round. "Gosh, Jim, did yu get 'em all?"

"No, yu chump," Sudden replied, and told what he believed to have happened.

As they bent over Rogue, his eyelids flickered and his lips breathed a question.

"She's safe," Sudden assured him.

Sandy went out and found that Carol was conscious again. He untied and lifted her down. She asked about Rogue. "He's badly hurt," the boy told her.

"I must go to him" she said.

"It's--pretty terrible--in there," he demurred.

"It would have been more terrible--for me--if he hadn't come," she cried, and to that Sandy could say nothing.

A spark of life shone in the dying outlaw's tired eyes when she entered the cabin. Kneeling by his side she strove to thank him, sobs choking her.

"It don't matter," he said.

"Can't I do anything?" she asked hopelessly.

A little shake of the head, and then, doubtfully, "Once I had a lass who would be about yore age ..."

With swift comprehension, she bent over and pressed her lips to the furrowed brow of the man who had killed and robbed, yet given his life for her.

"It's too good--an end--fora--rogue," he murmured.

The ghost of a smile passed over his hard mouth and that was all. Sandy led the weeping girl out of the hut, clumsily trying to comfort. In her overwrought state she could think of one thing only.

"Sandy, he died for me," she cried. "I'll never forget that."

"If I didn't owe him so much I'd feel jealous," the boy said huskily.

Carol turned to him impulsively, thrilled by his tone. Her forthright nature scorned evasion.

"you needn't be," she said softly. "Oh, Sandy, when that woman told me you were hurt, I--nearly--died."

Sudden unnecessarily slammed the cabin door, propped a plank against it to keep out prowling coyotes, and came towards them.

"The boys will be over in the mornin'," he said.

Through the black velvet of the night they rode back to town. Sudden led the way, his thoughts dwelling on the dead outlaw. Though his meeting with the man had meant nothing but misfortune, he had liked him, and in some way he could not understand, was conscious of a sense of loss. The pair behind were riding close together, and Sudden smiled a Iittlebitterly at the reflection that he was soon to lose another friend. Had Rogue lived...

It was not until the morning that the rancher was sufficiently recovered to hear the full story of the previous night's happenings. Varying expressions chased each other across his rugged features as Carol told the tale, and when it was ended, he brought his fist down with a thump on the pillow beside him.

"By heaven, Jim, all the herd-money wouldn't pay what I owe yu," he said. "But yu'll be comin' back to the S E with me, an'--"

A shake of the head interrupted him. "I'm obliged," the cowboy replied, "but yore memory ain't workin'."

"Shucks! I got friends who can pull ropes," Eden said. Sudden's grin was sardonic. "I got enemies who can do the same an' mebbe my neck would be in the loop o' one," he pointed out. "No, seh, I'm shore fond o' Texas but I ain't honin' to end my days there--yet." His face sobered. "Besides, but for another man yu'd have nothin' to thank me for."

"I ain't allowin' that," Eden returned. Despite the amend Rogue had made, he found it difficult to think kindly of the outlaw. His gaze went to Sandy. "I'm told yu kept them rats from finishin' me off," he went on. "yu must 'a' had a change o' heart since the Colorado."

"Hold yore hosses, seh, an' take a squint at these," Sudden interposed, producing a pair of beaded moccasins. "Found 'em in Navajo's saddle-bag ; they fit those tracks I measured. An' there's this."

The rancher took the proffered slip of paper. "Baudry's fist an' signature," he muttered, and read the contents aloud : "'I have to-day bet Navajo one thousand dollars that my friend, Sam Eden, gets his herd through and comes safely back to the S E.' "

The document bore the date the drive started. With knitted brows Eden studied it ; then the sinister import dawned upon him.

"Why, he's offerin' the fella a thousand cold to put me outa business," he burst out.

"yu said it," Sudden agreed. "An' when he failed to turn the trick hisself he bribed Lasker."

The old man looked woodenly at Sandy. "That appears to let yu out," he said. "S'pose I'll have to take yore word."

This ungenerous surrender brought a reproachful "Daddy!" from his daughter, and an expression of angry scorn on the young man's face.

"I ain't offerin' it," he retorted. "Think what yu please."

Aunt Judy flung herself into the discussion with her usual impetuosity. "Sam Eden," she said sharply, "if I was yore daughter--even by adoption--I'd box yore stubborn ears." She slanted a bony finger at Sandy. "Do I have to tell yu who that boy is?"

A slow smile softened the rancher's face. "No, that's my scamp of a son, Andrew Eden," he replied, and the harshness was gone from his voice also.

"Your son, and you treated him so--unkindly?" Carol cried. "You could even think ..."

The rancher wriggled uneasily and then shook his head. "Don't reckon I ever really believed that, but I had to he shore," he excused. "An' I wanted to see if he would stand the iron. I didn't know the game, but I was willin' to play it his way, so I told Jeff an' Peg-leg to keep their traps closed--they savvied him too. How come yu to be with the Rogue, boy?"

"Got word he was rustlin' yore cattle," Sandy explained. "Later, I learned it was more serious an' when he sent Jim an' myself to join yore outfit it looked like a chance to put a crimp in his plans."

"Why pertend to be a stranger?" Eden asked.

Sandy looked embarrassed. "yu ain't rememberin' how we parted," he said.

The old man chuckled contentedly--his boy was trying to spare him ; but he was no shirker.

"I've not forgotten," he admitted. "Threatened to fill yu with buckshot if yu showed up again, didn't I? Well, that's all past an' done--I reckon we've both learned sense since that day. yu've made good an' I'm proud o' yu, son." His eyes twinkled as he went on, "It's a pity Carol don't like redheads--claims she's had enough trouble with me, but mebbe she" He looked round the room and seemed surprised to find the girl had slipped away. "Now where in mischief has she gone? yu better go find her, boy ; somebody is liable to steal her again,"

Sandy's old impudent smile was back. "Somebody's goin' to," he promised.

From the crest of a ridge in the plain, a man on a big black horse watched a lumbering, canvas-topped wagon and its attendant group of riders diminish in the distance. The S E outfit was homeward bound and Sudden had ridden with them . this far. Bitterness was again upon him ; once more he was friendless. Even Tyson--well supplied with "smokin'," but disdaining the offer of a new rifle to replace his cherished "Betsy"--had returned to the wilderness in search of, as he had grimly put it, "copper-coloured marks to shoot at."

Sudden was sorely tempted to spur on and take his chance in Texas. Then came the memory of Bill Evesham, the man to whom he owed everything, who had passed out leaving him a legacy of hate. Somewhere on the far-flung frontiers of the west the two men who had wronged his benefactor were to be found. He had given his word and must keep it, at any cost. His young face became flint.

"I have it to do," he muttered, and whirling his mount, rode resolutely towards the town.

THE END