we can't put four more guards out of business without
being seen. And if we are caught--" His voice failed him.

The cowpuncher looked at him, and then at Farrar. The camera man was
pale, but his eyes met those of his friend steadily. Steve judged he
would do to tie to, that his nerve would pull him through. But the
director was plainly shaken with fears. He was not a coward, but the
privations and anxieties of the past ten days had got on his nerves. His
lips twitched and his fat hand trembled. His life had fallen in too soft
and easy places for this sort of thing.

The cowboy reassured him gently, even as he rearranged his plans on the
spot. "We're going to pull it off, but as you say there is a chance we
won't make it. I'm going to leave you in the corral with the horses. If
Frank and I should slip up and get caught you'll still have a chance to
get away."

"I'm going through with it just the same as you boys," insisted the
director shakily.

"You're going to do as I say, Threewit. I'm elected boss of this rodeo.
One of us has got to stay by the horses to make sure they're ready when
we need 'em. That's going to be you. You're to sit right steady on the
job till we come. If you hear shooting,--and if we don't show up in a
reasonable time after that,--light out and save your hide. Keep that
star--see, the bright one close down to the horizon--keep it right in
front of you all night. By daybreak you ought to be across the line."

"I'm not going to ride away and leave you boys and Ruth here. What do
you take me for?" demanded Threewit huskily.

Steve put a hand on the shoulder of the little man. "You're all right,
Billie," he said, with the affectionate smile that men as well as women
loved. "We all know you'll do to take along any time when we need a man
that's on the level. You wait there at the corral. If we show up, good.
If we don't--well, we'll be beyond help. There'll be nothing left for
you to do but burn the wind."

Frank swallowed hard. "What Steve says goes with me, Billie."

"Good." Yeager turned briskly to the business in hand. "We might as well
be on our way, boys. There's no hurry, because I want Pasquale and
Culvera to get settled at their game. But I reckon we'll drift along
easy like."

They waded the river, which at its deepest did not reach to their
calves, and scrambled up the opposite bank to a bench of shale. Yeager,
after a short search, found hidden under the foliage of a prickly pear