d threes and singly,
racing for the corral and for the lean-to where they kept their saddles.

Foremost among them was Shorty. His tall figure appeared first at the
corral gates, and his long legs were the first astride a horse. While
the others were running hither and yon near the bunkhouse and the
corral, Shorty raced his horse to the ranchhouse, slid off and crossed
the wide porch in two or three leaps.

He was confronted at the door by Mrs. Lawler, ashen, trembling.

"Rustlers!" he said, shortly, answering her look of interrogation.
"Where's the boss?"

The woman's voice broke. "Sheriff Moreton came after him some hours
ago--and took him to Willets--charging him with murdering those two men
at the line cabin, last winter. He isn't guilty, of course," declared
the mother; "but of course he had to go with Moreton."

Shortly swore silently. "All right, ma'am," he said, aloud; "I reckon
we'll have to handle it without him! Some of the boys of the night herd
are hurt, most likely--mebbe worse. If you'd sort of look after
them--mebbe--" He broke off short when he saw riders rushing from the
corral toward the house. "I'll stop at Joe Hamlin's place an' send Ruth
over, to help you. We can't spare any men--there's a horde of them
devils!"

He was leaping for his horse with the last words, and in an instant he
had joined the other riders who had paused, tentatively, near the edge
of the porch, having seen him. They fled, a dark mass against the dull
shadows of the valley, sweeping up the big slope toward the plains.

Blackburn, the range boss, was leading, with Shorty riding close beside
him. In the dim distance they could see the herd, spreading wide over
the level, running fast in the dust cloud that still followed them.

The Circle L men had not ridden more than a mile after striking the
level when Blackburn saw some blots detach themselves from the larger
blot--a number of them, like stray wisps of clouds straggling behind a
storm.

"They're droppin' back to pot-shot us," Blackburn said to Shorty. He
yelled at the men behind, warning them, and the group split up,
spreading out, though not reducing the breakneck speed at which they had
been riding.

They had not gone far after Blackburn shouted his warning when a puff of
white smoke dotted the luminous haze ahead, and a bullet whined close to
Blackburn.

"Rifle!" said Blackburn, grimly.

There were still three Circle L men at the line camps on the range; fiv