e of the
others'll tell all they know. You ought to have shot straighter,
Plimsoll. Just like cuttin' our own throats to let 'em get away."

"You did some missing on your own account," retorted Plimsoll.

"It was the rotten booze. You started it. If you'd plugged Wyatt right
it would have ended it. Now we've got to clear out."

"There isn't two hundred dollars of real money in the crowd," said
Plimsoll. "If Taylor had taken the herd...."

"He was afraid to touch it. We'll go south. That's my plan. You can find
a buyer in Tucson. Put the horses in the Hideout. Leave one or two to
look out for 'em an' turn 'em over later. We can arrange for a delivery
if we make a sale."

"Who in hell's goin' to stay behind?" asked one of the men.

"We'll cut cards for it."

"Not me."

"What's the use of fighting among ourselves again?" suggested Hahn
smoothly. "We can settle who's to stay later. There's grub in the
Hideout and a safe place to lay low if anything goes wrong. They'll have
a fine time proving up the horses are stolen. We've got to take a
chance. Butch is right. We can't take them with us. There's a good
chance of a sale in Tucson. Meantime we've got to figure on Wyatt. He'll
likely try to get in touch with that Brandon outfit."

"Or that chap who said he was from Phoenix," put in Butch. "You made a
misplay, there, Plimsoll. That chap was a ringer."

"You talk like a fool," retorted Plimsoll. "He sold us the bunch cheap
enough. He never raised horses he'd let go at that price. He lifted 'em,
like he said."

"Just the same, he didn't act like a rustler."

"It was his first trick. Young vouched for him."

"This ain't getting us anywhere," said Hahn. "Let's make for the Hideout
and talk it out there. This place ain't safe."

Within an hour the herd, already corralled for the chance of a quick
sale, was being driven to the glen known as the Hideout, a little
mountain park with water and good feed where Plimsoll placed the horses
that his men drove off from far-away ranches, or Plimsoll bought from
other horse dealers of his own sort, keeping them there until their
brands were doctored and possible pursuit died down. There were two
entrances to the Hideout, one through a narrow gut almost blocked by a
fallen boulder, with only a passage wide enough to let through horse and
rider single file, a way that could be easily barricaded or masked so
that none would suspect any opening in the cliff. The second led by a
w