ion. "I'd know it anywhere from--that--cut--in--"

His voice trailed off into silence and he gazed with wide-eyed, growing
horror at the hand that had rested on the saddle-skirt. It was stained
bright crimson, and Buck, staring over his shoulder, noticed that the
leather surface glistened darkly ominous in the bright moonlight.

Slowly the boy turned his head and looked at Stratton. His face was
lint-white, and the pupils of his eyes were curiously dilated.

"It's Rick's saddle," he repeated dully, and shuddered as he stared again
at his blood-stained hand.

Buck's own fingers caught the youngster's shoulder in a reassuring grip,
and his lips parted. But before he had time to speak a sudden volley of
shots rang out ahead of them, so crisp and distinct and clear that
instinctively he stiffened, his ears attuned for the familiar, vibrant hum
of flying bullets.

CHAPTER VII

RUSTLERS

Swiftly the echoes of the shots died away, leaving the still serenity of
the night again unruffled. For a moment or two Stratton waited
expectantly; then his shoulders squared decisively.

"I reckon it's up to us to find out what's going on down there," he said,
turning toward his horse.

Jessup nodded curt agreement. "Better take the sorrel along, hadn't we?"
he asked.

"Sure." Buck swung himself lightly into the saddle, shortening the lead
rope and fastening it to the horn. "I was thinking of that."

Five minutes later they pulled up in front of a small adobe shack nestling
against a background of cottonwoods that told of the near presence of the
creek. The door stood open, framing a black rectangle which proclaimed the
emptiness of the hut, and with scarcely a pause the two rode slowly on,
searching the moonlit vistas with keen alertness.

On their right the country had grown noticeably rougher. Here and there
low spurs from the near-by western hills thrust out into the flat prairie,
and deep shadows which marked the opening of draw or gully loomed up
frequently. It was from one of these, about half a mile south of the hut,
that a voice issued suddenly, halting the two riders abruptly by the
curtness of its snarling menace.

"Hands up!"

Buck obeyed promptly, having learned from experience the futility of
trying to draw on a person whose very outlines are invisible. Jessup's
hands went up, too, and then dropped quickly to his sides again.

"Why, it's Slim!" he cried, and spurred swiftly toward the mouth of the
gu