n of exhaustion; Sanderson patted his neck as he raced
upward out of the valley and into the defile where they had seen the
riders.

Sanderson was halfway up the defile when he was assailed with the
thought that by this time--even before this--they should have met the
other riders--had the latter kept the trail.

Struck by a sudden suspicion that there was something strange about the
disappearance of the riders, Sanderson abruptly pulled Streak up. The
other men were some distance behind, and Sanderson slipped out of the
saddle to give Streak a breathing spell.

The movement saved his life, for his feet had hardly struck the ground
when he heard the thud of a rifle bullet, the sharp crash of the
weapon, and saw the leaden missile rip the leather on the cantle of the
saddle.

As though the shot were a signal, there followed others--a ripping,
crashing volley. Sanderson saw the smoke spurts ballooning upward from
behind some rocks and boulders that dotted the hills on both sides of
the defile, he saw several of his men drop from their horses and fall
prone to the ground.

He shouted to the men to leave their horses and "take cover," and he
himself sought the only cover near him--a wide fissure in the wall of
the long slope below the point where the attackers were concealed.

Streak, apparently aware of the danger, followed Sanderson into the
shelter of the fissure.

It was an admirable spot for an ambuscade. Sanderson saw that there
were few places in which his men could conceal themselves, for the
hostile force occupied both sides of the defile. Their rifles were
still popping, and Sanderson saw two of the Double A force go down
before they could find shelter.

Sanderson divined what had happened--Dale and his men had overpowered
Owen, and had set this ambuscade for himself and the Double A men.

Dale was determined to murder all of them; it was to be a fight to a
finish--that grim killing of an entire outfit, which, in the idiomatic
phraseology of the cowpuncher, is called a "clean-up."

Sanderson was aware of the disadvantage which must be faced, but there
was no indication of fear or excitement in his manner. It was not the
first time he had been in danger, and he drew his belt tighter and
examined his pistols as he crouched against the ragged wall of the
fissure. Then, calling Streak to him, he pulled his rifle out of the
saddle holster and examined the magazine.

Rifle in hand, he first surveyed