an for a target and
fired at it. Luck if he hit it, he told himself, at that distance and
running and in that flickering light. But he fired again, ran in
closer and fired the third time. And just as the white mare passed on
through the illumed area and was lost in the dark with its rider he saw
his man pitch forward and plunge to the ground. Other forms swept by,
other shots were fired both from the outlaws and toward them. The
darkness accepted them all and no other man fell.

Shouts floated back to them above the hammering thud of the fleeing
cows and horses. Into the darkness after them Bruce and Kendric and
Bruce's men sent many questing bullets while now and then an answering
leaden pellet screamed over their heads. Swiftly the clamor of the
receding hoof-beats lessened; no voices returned to them; no wild rider
was to be seen. The night pulsed only to the barks of the dogs and the
roar of the devastating flames.

Bruce was calling loudly to his men to get to horse and follow. But
while he spoke he broke off hopelessly realizing that not a horse was
left to him. Before he and his herders could get into saddle they must
wait for daylight and must waste hours in driving in horses from the
distant pastures, wild brutes for the most part that a man could never
get near enough on foot to rope. He threw out his arms in a wide
gesture of despair. Thereafter he stood, silent and moody, watching
his hay-filled barns burn.

"If I could get my hands on the man that engineered this," he said, his
voice broken, barely carrying to Kendric a few paces away. "That's all
I ask."

Kendric, his rage scarcely less than Bruce's, called back to him:

"I could lead you as straight as a string. It's the handiwork of your
neighbor."

"Rios?" cried Bruce eagerly.

"Zoraida Castelmar."

"Damn her!" cried the boy. In the firelight Kendric saw his steady
eyes glisten and knew that they were filled with tears, the terrible
tears of rage rising above anguish. "Damn her!"

After that he stood silent again looking at the burning buildings.
When a new flame spurted skyward, when a section of roof fell, he
twitched as though his muscles knew physical pain. At last he turned
away and Kendric saw a face that it was hard to recognize as the boyish
face of blue-eyed Bruce West.

"This beats me," said Bruce, quietly. "Best stock gone, new barns and
hay turned to cinders. Ten thousand dollars wiped out in an hour.
Yes; do