onsolingly round the mule.
Wayland emitted a deep breath of relief. If he had waited five minutes
longer at the raft, they would have had his horses. It was all in the
difference between being on the wrong and the right side of five minutes.

"Y' don't need t' tell me we're goin' South an' down--We might be goin'
to the bottomless pit. The wind's like a furnace."

"Off the Desert," explained the Ranger.

The sun had risen high above the peaks. The mists had receded to belts
and wisps of cloud against the forests. Waters tumbling wind-blown from
the ledges were swelling to a chorus. Little cross bills and jays that
had come round the breakfast camp still followed the pack train.

"As this is off y'r National Forests, A suppose y' couldn't have jumped
into the bunch an' arrested every man-jack of 'em?"

"Not without being a target for five shots while they would have been
targets for only one."

"We'd have strung 'em up in the good old days, an' sent for the sheriff
to clean up the remnants."

They had left the goat track and dipped down a shaggy green hollow
between mountains that seemed to slope to lakes of pure light above a
blue open plain.

"Any citizen can arrest a law breaker whereever found. Our badge is
supposed to increase that privilege; but the crime was committed just a
stone's throw _off_ the grazing ground in the National Forests. We'd
have to turn our prisoners over to Sheriff Flood. How long do you think
he'd keep 'em in custody? They'd escape while he was having an attack of
'look-the-other-way--'"

"Your idea to run 'em aground in their own State?"

"Not necessary to go so far. Run them across _this_ State line--then
catch them off guard in some of these canyons or arroyos. Turn them over
to a sheriff who doesn't owe his bread and butter to Moyese. He'll have
to hold them till Williams and MacDonald come down to testify. By that
time, I fancy we'll hear from people who have been losing stock all the
way up from Arizona. Moyese will be keeping mighty quiet."

"Meanwhile, Mr. White-vest, who planned all this deviltry--he goes free!
These are only the poor rowdy tools for--"

"For the Man Higher Up," finished Wayland.

"Wayland, who is this white-vested anarchist, this vested-righter who
subverts your laws?"

"His name is Legion, sir! That's what's the matter! These hide-bound
vested righters are only vested righters when the rights don't happen to
belong to some other man