sound of a revolver shot rang out.

One of the roisterers, who had been loud in his threats of what he meant
to do to the Indians, lost his braggadocio instantly. He leaped for the
saddle of the nearest horse and dug his spurs home. In his fuddled
condition he made a mistake. He had chosen, as a mount upon which to
escape, the fence that encircled the park.

"Gid ap! Gid ap!" he screamed.

"Yore bronc is some balky, ain't it, Jud?" Hollister asked. He had
already discovered that the panic had been caused by a false cry of
"Wolf" raised by one of the fence rider's companions.

"S-some one hitched it to a post," Blister suggested.

"Ride him, puncher," urged Bob. "Stick to yore saddle if he does buck."

Jud came off the fence sheepishly. "I was aimin' to go get help," he
explained.

"Where was you going for it--to Denver?" asked Blister.

The night wore itself out. With the coming of day the spirits of the less
hardy revived. The ranchers on the plaza breakfasted in groups, after
which their children were bundled off to school. Scouts rode out to learn
the whereabouts of the Utes and others to establish contact with the
approaching militia.

Harshaw organized a company of rangers made up mostly of cowpunchers from
the river ranches. During the day more of these drifted in. By dusk he
had a group of forty hard-riding young fellows who could shoot straight
and were acquainted with the country over which they would have to
operate. Blister was second in command. All of the Slash Lazy D riders
had enlisted except one who had recently broken a leg.

Scouts brought in word that the Utes had swung round Bear Cat and were
camped about thirty miles up the river. Harshaw moved out to meet them.
He suspected the Indians of planning to ambush the militia before the
soldiers could join forces with the rangers.

Bob had joined the rangers with no enthusiasm. He had enlisted because of
pressure both within and without. He would have been ashamed not to offer
himself. Moreover, everybody seemed to assume he would go. But he would
much rather have stayed at Bear Cat with the home guards. From what he
had picked up, he was far from sure that the Utes were to blame this
time. The Houck killing, for instance. And that was not the only outrage
they had endured. It struck him more like a rising of the whites. They
had provoked the young bucks a good deal, and a sheriff's posse had
arrested some of them for being off the reservation