ad
philosophy at that. I wonder"--the old man chuckled to himself--"I
wonder if the Sheruff et up most of that there gag before Bat let him
loose?"

Wade laughed out loud, and as though in response, an owl hooted
somewhere in the timber to their right.

"There's a durned old hoot owl," growled Santry. "I never like to hear
them things--they most always mean bad luck."

He rode to the head of the little column, and the rest of the way to the
ranch was passed in ominous silence. When they finally arrived at the
edge of the clearing and cautiously dismounted, everything seemed from
the exterior, at least, just as it should be. The night being far gone,
the lights were out, and there was no sign of life about the place. Wade
wondered if the posse had gone.

"There ain't no use in speculatin'," declared Santry. "They may be
asleep, and they may be layin' for us there in the dark. This will take
a rise out of 'em anyhow."

At sight of the old fellow, pistol in hand, Wade called to him to wait,
but as he spoke Santry fired two quick shots into the air.

There was an immediate commotion in the ranch house. A man inside was
heard to curse loudly, while another showed his face for an instant
where the moonlight fell across a window. He hastily ducked out of
sight, however, when a rifle bullet splintered the glass just above his
head. Presently a gun cracked inside the house and a splash on a rock
behind the attackers told them where the shot had struck.

"Whoop-e-e-e-e!" Santry yelled, discharging the four remaining shots in
his revolver at the window. "We've got 'em guessin'. They don't know how
many we are."

"They were probably asleep," said Wade a bit sharply. "We might have
sneaked in and captured the whole crowd without firing a shot. That's
what I meant to do before you cut loose."

Santry shook his grizzled head as he loaded his revolver.

"Well, now, that would have been just a mite risky, boy. The way things
stand we've still got the advantage, an'...." He broke off to take a
snapshot at a man who showed himself at the window for an instant in an
effort to get a glimpse of the attacking force. "One!" muttered the old
plainsman to himself.

By this time Wade had thrown himself down on his stomach behind a
bowlder to Santry's left and was shooting methodically at the door of
the house, directly in front of him. He knew that door. It was built of
inch lumber and was so located that a bullet, after passing thr