most instantly. He walked to the table and blew out the light. "Go
to the door an' see," he urged in an excited voice.

Rathburn hurried out. High on the mountain above the canyon a fire was
burning.

"It's the signal," Price whispered in his ear.

"Joe, do me a last favor," said Rathburn in a queer voice. "Get me my
hoss before it's too late!"

The old man obediently slipped into the shadows behind the cabin.

CHAPTER XXXV

GUNS IN THE NIGHT

When Joe Price returned, leading Rathburn's horse which he had fed and
watered, and turned over the reins, he spoke swiftly in a low voice:

"They'll be watchin' hard for you down the canyon, boy. Bob Long's sure
to mean business this 'ere time."

"Well, I know it," said Rathburn with a low, mirthless laugh. "I
locked him in his own jail this mornin' to get a clean chance to
decide to give myself up. Then, when the chance came--well, he surely
thinks now that I put him away to cover my tracks. I expect the boys
have got their shootin' orders."

"Listen!" whispered Price excitedly. "Wait till I get my own horse,
an' I'll strike east across the hump. That'll start 'em after me
maybe--sure it will, Rathburn! They'll think I'm you, see, an' light
right out after me."

Rathburn laid one hand on the old man's shoulder and put the other
over Joe's mouth.

"Joe, you're all excited--plumb unreasonable excited. You know I
wouldn't let you do that. Now don't hand me more worries than I've
got. Be good, Joe." He patted Price's shoulder, then swung into the
saddle.

The old miner looked up at him, his face showing strangely white in
the dim starlight, pierced by the fire on the peak.

"I didn't tell 'em you'd been here, Roger; don't forget that!"

"I knew that, Joe," Rathburn chuckled. "So long."

Swiftly he rode down the little meadow below the spring into the deep
shadows of the canyon which led down a steep trail to the desert.
Presently he checked his pace until he was walking the gallant dun. He
wished to avoid as much noise as possible, and to save the horse for a
final spurt down nine miles of desert to the Mallory ranch from the
mouth of the canyon--providing he got out.

For two reasons he had deliberately chosen this route: it was
shortest, and it offered the best going. He must save the dun's
strength. Rathburn knew the limits of his splendid mount; knew they
had almost been reached; knew there was just enough left in the horse
to make the ranch withou