ad started at the word
"One," and though Barkwell, noting the scurrying of their horses, cut the
final words sharply, the four figures were vague and shadowy when the
first pistol shot smote the air. Not a report floated back to the ears of
the two men. They watched, with grim pouts on their lips, until the men
vanished in the star haze of the plains. Then Barkwell spoke, raucously:

"Well, we've broke in the game, Jud. We're Simon-pure outlaws--like our
boss. I got one of them scum--I seen him grab leather. We'll all get in,
now. They're after our boss, eh? Well, damn 'em, we'll show 'em! They's
eight of the boys on the south fork. You get 'em, bring 'em here an' get
rifles. I'll hit the breeze to the basin an' rustle the others!" He was
running at the last word, and presently two horses raced out of the corral
gates, clattered past the bunk-house and were swallowed in the vast, black
space.

Half an hour later the entire outfit--twenty men besides Barkwell and
Weaver--left the ranchhouse and spread, fan-wise, over the plains west of
Manti.

* * * * *

They lost all sense of time. Several of them had ridden to Manti, making a
round of the places that were still open, but had returned, with no word
of Trevison. Corrigan had claimed to have seen him. But then, a man told
his questioner, Corrigan claimed Trevison had choked the banker to death.
He could believe both claims, or neither. So far as the man himself was
concerned, he was not going to commit himself. But if Trevison had done
the job, he'd done it well. The seekers after information rode out of
Manti on the run. At some time after midnight the entire outfit was
grouped near Clay Levins' house.

They held a short conference, and then Barkwell rode forward and hammered
on the door of the cabin.

"We're wantin' Clay, ma'am," said Barkwell in answer to the scared inquiry
that filtered through the closed door. "It's the Diamond K outfit."

"What do you want him for?"

"We was thinkin' that mebbe he'd know where 'Firebrand' is. 'Firebrand' is
sort of lost, I reckon."

The door flew open and Mrs. Levins, like a pale ghost, appeared in the
opening. "Trevison and Clay left here tonight. I didn't look to see what
time. Oh, I hope nothing has happened to them!"

They quieted her fears and fled out into the plains again, charging
themselves with stupidity for not being more diplomatic in dealing with
Mrs. Levins. During