Linton rode on, his anxiety acute, a grave suspicion afflicting him. And when, after he had ridden a little farther, he saw Barbara's horse trotting slowly toward him, the stirrups swinging and flopping emptily against the saddle skirts, he drew a deep breath and brought his own horse to a halt, while he sat motionless in the saddle, tortured by bitter thoughts.

He had no doubt that what Harlan feared would happen, had happened--that Deveny had come for Barbara. And Deveny had found her, through _his_ dereliction. He had relaxed his vigilance for only a short time, and during that time Deveny had come.

Linton looked back toward the Rancho Seco. The distance to the ranchhouse seemed to be interminable. He looked again up the valley, and saw that the hors.e.m.e.n were growing indistinct. Within a few minutes, so rapid was their pace, they would vanish altogether.

Linton thought of going back to the ranchhouse for the other men--that was why he had looked in that direction. But if he wished to keep the hors.e.m.e.n in sight he would not have time to get the other men. Before he could get the men and return to where he now stood Deveny would have taken the girl to that mysterious and unknown rendezvous in the hills in which his band had always concealed themselves, and Barbara would be lost.

Linton's lips straightened. He was to blame.

He knew the danger that would attend the action of following Deveny's men up the valley. Other men had attempted to trail them, and they had been found murdered, often with warnings upon them.

But Linton hesitated only momentarily. With a grim smile for his chances of emerging unscathed from the valley, he urged his horse up the trail, riding hard.

Several miles he had traveled, keeping the hors.e.m.e.n in sight, and he was beginning to believe that he would succeed where others had failed, when, pa.s.sing through a clump of timber he detected movement in some brush at a little distance back.

Divining that Deveny had seen him and had sent a man into the timber to ambush him, Linton threw himself flat on the horse's mane. He felt a bullet sing past him, coming from the right, and he got his pistol out and was swinging its muzzle toward the point from which the bullet had come when a gun roared at his left.

He felt a hot, searing pain in his side, and he reeled in the saddle from the shock. Instantly another bullet struck him, coming from the right.

His pistol dropped from his weakening fingers, he toppled sidewise and tumbled limply into the dust.

Shortly afterward, seemingly while he was in a state of coma, he heard hoofbeats, rapidly growing distant.

He knew they were Deveny's men and he yielded to a vague wonder as to why they had not made sure of their work.

Doggedly, and with long and bitter effort, Linton began to turn himself so that he could get up. The pain from his wounds was excruciating, so that each muscular effort brought a retching groan from him. Yet he kept moving, twisting himself around until he got on his knees. From that position he tried a number of times to get to his feet, but he failed each time.

At last, though, with the help of a boulder that lay beside the trail, he got his feet under him and stood for an instant, staggering weakly. Then he began to move forward to his horse. When he managed at last to clutch the saddle skirt he was reeling, his knees bending under him. However, he managed to get one leg over the saddle, taking a long time to do it; and eventually he was in the seat.

He spent another long interval lashing himself to the saddle with the rope that he carried at the pommel; and then headed the horse toward the Rancho Seco.

He began to ride, urging the horse to what seemed to him a rapid pace.

But he had not gone very far when he sagged against the pommel, lifelessly.

CHAPTER XXVI

ROGERS TAKES A HAND

The trail herd had made good progress through the valley, and Rogers, aided by the Star men, had kept them going. The men feared no interference with the work, for they had terrorized the ranchers in the valley until the latter well knew the futility of retaliatory measures.

Still, a certain furtive quickness of movement had always characterized the operations of the outlaws--the instinct to move secretly, if possible, and to strike swiftly when they struck was always strong in them.

Besides, the drive to Willow's Wells was not a long one, and the cattle could stand a fast pace. So it was not long after the herd had left the Star until it straggled up a defile in the hills and out upon the level where Deveny's men had to ride to take the south trail to the Rancho Seco.

The level extended southward for a distance of several miles to a gra.s.s range that the Star men knew well--for there had been times when they had grazed cattle there, making camp on their frequent trips to the Wells.

A range of low, flat hills marked the northern limits of the grazing section; and Rogers and his men trailed the cattle through the hills while the morning was still young.

The herd was through the hills, and Rogers, twisting in the saddle, was taking a last look over the plain to make certain there had been no prying eyes watching the movements of himself and the men, when he saw, far to the west, a group of hors.e.m.e.n just coming into view at the edge of the plain--seemingly having ridden out of the big valley.

Rogers wheeled his horse and watched the hors.e.m.e.n as they traveled eastward, making good time. He called to a man, named Colver, who was riding close to him.

"Them's Deveny's men--from the Cache. What in blazes are they up to?

Somethin's in the wind, Colver--they're ridin' like the devil was after them an' burnin' the breeze for fair!"

Rogers sent his horse scampering to the crest of one of the hills where, concealed behind some brush, he watched the progress of Deveny's men eastward.

When they pa.s.sed the point on the plain where they would have to veer northward if they intended to visit the Star, he breathed with relief.

For he had almost yielded to a conviction that Deveny _was_ headed for the Star.

But after the hors.e.m.e.n pa.s.sed the point that led to the Star trail, a new anxiety seized Rogers--and a pa.s.sion that sent the blood to his face swept over him.

His eyes were glowing with an excitement that he could not repress when he turned to Colver.

"Somethin's up!" he snapped. "Deveny's been sullen as h.e.l.l for a good many days--ever since Harlan came to the Star. One of the boys was tellin' me he heard Deveny an' Haydon havin' it out over at the Cache. If there's goin' to be a ruckus I'm goin' to be in on it!"

He leaped his horse off the hill, racing him down into the gra.s.s plain after the other men. When he reached them he yelled sharply, and they spurred quickly to him, antic.i.p.ating from his manner that danger threatened.

"I've got a hunch that h.e.l.l's a-goin' to pop right sudden, boys," he told them. "An' we're goin' away from it. If there's any trouble we want to be in on it. Deveny's up to somethin'. You-all know about the agreement made between Haydon an' Harlan--that Harlan was to run the Rancho Seco without interference. Deveny's headed that way, an' Haydon ain't around. It's up to us boys to keep our eyes open.

"Harlan's at the Star. He won't be knowin' that Deveny is headin' for the Rancho Seco. Harlan's white, boys; he's done more for us guys since he's been at the Star than Haydon or Deveny ever done for us. He's promised us things that Haydon an' Deveny would never do. He's a white man, an' I'm for him. An' I'm for takin' orders from him from now on. Who's with me?"

"You're shoutin'!" declared Colver.

"It's time for a new deal," muttered another.

"You're doin' the yappin'," grimly announced a big man who was close to Rogers; "we're followin' your lead."

"I'm jumpin' for the Star then!" declared Rogers; "to put Harlan wise to where Deveny's headed for. We're leavin' the herd here until we find out what's goin' on. Half of you guys beat it to the Rancho Seco--trailin'

Deveny an' his boys, to find out what they're doin'. You're herd-ridin'

them if they go to monkeyin' with the Rancho Seco. Slope!"

Rogers had hardly ceased speaking when the outfit was on the move. There were eleven men, including Rogers; and they sent their horses leaping over the crest of the hill nearest them--dividing, as they reached the level on the other side with seemingly no previous arrangement, into two groups--one group going northeastward, toward the South Trail, and the other fading into the s.p.a.ce that yawned between it and the point where the trail to the Star led downward into the big basin.

Haydon, holding hard to the pommel of the saddle, urging his horse along the trail that led up the valley, looked back whenever he reached a rise, his eyes searching the s.p.a.ce behind him for the dread apparition that he expected momentarily.

He knew that it would not be long before Morgan and Harlan would emerge from the ranchhouse to discover that he had escaped; and he knew, too, that they would suspect that he had gone to the Cache.

He expected they would delay riding after him, however, until they searched for him in some of the buildings, and that delay, he hoped, would give him time to reach the Cache.

He was handicapped by his useless arm--for it made riding awkward, and the numbness was stealing down his side, toward his leg. He paid little attention to the pain; indeed, he entirely forgot it in his frenzied eagerness to reach the Cache.

More prominent in his brain at this minute than any other emotion was a dread of Billy Morgan. He had yielded to terror when Morgan had revealed his ident.i.ty; but the terror he had felt then had not been nearly so paralyzing as that which was now upon him.