new it close to the mark. Had Plimsoll
been joined or attacked? And...?

His practised eyes, roving here and there, saw still more cartridge
shells. Walking cat-footed, he made no sound but suddenly three buzzards
rose on heavy wings and he went swiftly to where they had been
squatting. A dead man lay up against the cliff, a saddle blanket thrown
over his face. This had held off the carrion birds. The body was limp
and still warm, it had been a corpse only a short time. Sandy took off
the blanket.

It was Wyatt! Wyatt, whom he had seen not much more than four hours
before, riding on the main street in Hereford, threatening vengeance on
Plimsoll. A bullet had made a small hole in his skull by the right
temple and crashed out through the back of his head in a bloody gap!

CHAPTER XIX

THE HIDEOUT

The row that had culminated at the Waterline Ranch, ending in the
trouble between Plimsoll and Wyatt, had brewed steadily. It had been a
reckless crowd at the horse ranch, practically outlaws by their actions
though not yet so adjudged, yet knowing their tenure of immunity was
growing short. There had collected, besides Plimsoll's riders, Butch
Parsons, Hahn's and others of Plimsoll's following who had been forced
from their livelihood as gamblers. They still hung together, waiting for
Plimsoll to make a clean-up of his horses and move to places where they
were less discredited.

Meantime they made their own crude liquors and drank them freely. They
gambled and caroused late. There were some women at the ranch. There was
little fellowship.

Plimsoll had lost caste as a leader. His moods were morose or bragging.
His ascendancy was gone. The crowd clung to him like so many leeches,
waiting for a split of the proceeds of the sale of horses that no one
appeared eager to buy in quantity. Ready cash was short. There were
frequent quarrels; through it all there worked the leaven of Wyatt's
jealousy, fermenting steadily. There were men among them who had fought
with gunplay and who had killed but, as they were cheats, so they were
cravens, at heart.

When the split came, after an all-night session with cards and liquor,
following the refusal of a dealer to buy the herd, it was not merely a
matter between Wyatt and Plimsoll. Sides were taken and the weaker
driven from the ranch. Preparations were made for departure. The
frightened women fled back to Hereford.

"It's a rotten mess," declared Butch Parsons. "Wyatt or on