and hung
suspended in that position, his head and shoulders on the wheel, one
stiff leg still across his saddle. Hooven, in attempting to rise from
his kneeling position, received a rifle ball squarely in the throat, and
rolled forward upon his face. Old Broderson, crying out, "Oh, they've
shot me, boys," staggered sideways, his head bent, his hands rigid at
his sides, and fell into the ditch. Osterman, blood running from his
mouth and nose, turned about and walked back. Presley helped him across
the irrigating ditch and Osterman laid himself down, his head on his
folded arms. Harran Derrick dropped where he stood, turning over on his
face, and lay motionless, groaning terribly, a pool of blood forming
under his stomach. The old man Dabney, silent as ever, received his
death, speechless. He fell to his knees, got up again, fell once more,
and died without a word. Annixter, instantly killed, fell his length
to the ground, and lay without movement, just as he had fallen, one arm
across his face.

CHAPTER VII

On their way to Derrick's ranch house, Hilma and Mrs. Derrick heard the
sounds of distant firing.

"Stop!" cried Hilma, laying her hand upon young Vacca's arm. "Stop the
horses. Listen, what was that?"

The carry-all came to a halt and from far away across the rustling wheat
came the faint rattle of rifles and revolvers.

"Say," cried Vacca, rolling his eyes, "oh, say, they're fighting over
there."

Mrs. Derrick put her hands over her face.

"Fighting," she cried, "oh, oh, it's terrible. Magnus is there--and
Harran."

"Where do you think it is?" demanded Hilma. "That's over toward
Hooven's."

"I'm going. Turn back. Drive to Hooven's, quick."

"Better not, Mrs. Annixter," protested the young man. "Mr. Annixter said
we were to go to Derrick's. Better keep away from Hooven's if there's
trouble there. We wouldn't get there till it's all over, anyhow."

"Yes, yes, let's go home," cried Mrs. Derrick, "I'm afraid. Oh, Hilma,
I'm afraid."

"Come with me to Hooven's then."

"There, where they are fighting? Oh, I couldn't. I--I can't. It would be
all over before we got there as Vacca says."

"Sure," repeated young Vacca.

"Drive to Hooven's," commanded Hilma. "If you won't, I'll walk there."
She threw off the lap-robes, preparing to descend. "And you," she
exclaimed, turning to Mrs. Derrick, "how CAN you--when Harran and your
husband may be--may--are in danger."

Grumbling, Vacca turned the carry