se, were hand and glove with Bland. Also he saw enormous
flat-boats, crude of structure, moored along the banks of the river. The
Rio Grande rolled away between high bluffs. A cable, sagging deep in
the middle, was stretched over the wide yellow stream, and an old scow,
evidently used as a ferry, lay anchored on the far shore.

The valley was an ideal retreat for an outlaw band operating on a big
scale. Pursuit scarcely need be feared over the broken trails of the Rim
Rock. And the open end of the valley could be defended against almost
any number of men coming down the river. Access to Mexico was easy and
quick. What puzzled Duane was how Bland got cattle down to the river,
and he wondered if the rustler really did get rid of his stolen stock by
use of boats.

Duane must have idled considerable time up on the hill, for when he
returned to the shack Euchre was busily engaged around the camp-fire.

"Wal, glad to see you ain't so pale about the gills as you was," he
said, by way of greeting. "Pitch in an' we'll soon have grub ready.
There's shore one consolin' fact round this here camp."

"What's that?" asked Duane.

"Plenty of good juicy beef to eat. An' it doesn't cost a short bit."

"But it costs hard rides and trouble, bad conscience, and life, too,
doesn't it?"

"I ain't shore about the bad conscience. Mine never bothered me none.
An' as for life, why, thet's cheap in Texas."

"Who is Bland?" asked Duane, quickly changing the subject. "What do you
know about him?"

"We don't know who he is or where he hails from," replied Euchre.
"Thet's always been somethin' to interest the gang. He must have been
a young man when he struck Texas. Now he's middle-aged. I remember how
years ago he was soft-spoken an' not rough in talk or act like he is
now. Bland ain't likely his right name. He knows a lot. He can doctor
you, an' he's shore a knowin' feller with tools. He's the kind thet
rules men. Outlaws are always ridin' in here to join his gang, an' if
it hadn't been fer the gamblin' an' gun-play he'd have a thousand men
around him."

"How many in his gang now?"

"I reckon there's short of a hundred now. The number varies. Then Bland
has several small camps up an' down the river. Also he has men back on
the cattle-ranges."

"How does he control such a big force?" asked Duane. "Especially when
his band's composed of bad men. Luke Stevens said he had no use for
Bland. And I heard once somewhere that Bland was a devil