ngth of the fellow, and even
noted that the dark eyes were regarding him questioningly out of a white,
rather strained face.

"Want me to look you over?" he asked, bending down. "I've had considerable
experience with this sort of thing, and maybe I can make you easier."

"Go to it," nodded the young chap briefly. "It ain't bleedin' like it was,
but it could be a whole lot more comfortable."

With the aid of Jessup and McCabe, Bemis was moved out into the moonlight,
where Stratton made a careful examination of his wound. He found that the
bullet had plowed through the fleshy part of the thigh, just missing the
bone, and, barring chances of infection, it was not likely to be
dangerous. He was readjusting Slim's crude bandaging when he heard the
beat of hoofs and out of the corner of one eye saw McCabe walk swiftly out
to meet the returning punchers.

These halted about fifty feet away, and there was a brief exchange of
words of which Buck could distinguish nothing. Presently two of the men
dashed off in the direction of the ranch-house, while Lynch rode slowly
forward and dismounted.

"How yuh feelin'?" he asked Bemis, adding with a touch of sarcasm in his
voice, "I hear yuh got a reg'lar professional sawbones to look after
yuh."

"He acts like he knew what he was about," returned Bemis briefly. "How yuh
goin' to get me home?"

"I've sent Butch an' Flint after the wagon," explained Lynch. "They'll
hustle all they can."

"Did you catch sight of the rustlers?" asked Stratton suddenly.

The foreman flashed him a sudden not overfriendly glance.

"No," he returned curtly, and turning on his heel led his horse over to
where the others had gathered in the shadow of a rocky butte.

It was nearly an hour before the lumbering farm-wagon appeared. During the
interval Buck sat beside the wounded man, smoking and exchanging
occasional brief comments with Bud, who stayed close by. One or two of the
others strolled up to ask about Bemis, but for the most part they remained
in their little group, the intermittent glow of their cigarettes
flickering in the darkness and the constant low murmur of their
conversation wafted indistinguishably across the intervening space.

Their behavior piqued Buck's curiosity tremendously. What were they
talking about so continually? Where had the outlaws gone, and why hadn't
they been pursued further? Had the whole pursuit been merely in the nature
of a bluff? And if so, whom had it been inte