somewhere along that west wall, hidin' in the brush, hard
hit if I know anythin' aboot the color of blood."

"Wal! ... that beats me holler, too," ejaculated Colter.

"Jim, what's to be done?" inquired Springer, eagerly. "If we're sharp
we can corral that half-breed. He's the last of the Isbels."

"More, pard. He's the last of the Isbel outfit," declared Colter. "If
y'u can show me blood in his tracks I'll trail him."

"Y'u can bet I'll show y'u," rejoined the other rustler. "But listen!
Wouldn't it be better for us first to see if he crossed the canyon? I
reckon he didn't. But let's make sure. An' if he didn't we'll have
him somewhar along that west canyon wall. He's not got no gun. He'd
never run thet way if he had.... Jim, he's our meat!"

"Shore, he'll have that knife," pondered Colter.

"We needn't worry about thet," said the other, positively. "He's hard
hit, I tell y'u. All we got to do is find thet bloody trail again an'
stick to it--goin' careful. He's layin' low like a crippled wolf."

"Springer, I want the job of finishin' that half-breed," hissed Colter.
"I'd give ten years of my life to stick a gun down his throat an' shoot
it off."

"All right. Let's rustle. Mebbe y'u'll not have to give much more 'n
ten minnits. Because I tell y'u I can find him. It'd been easy--but,
Jim, I reckon I was afraid."

"Leave your hoss for me an' go ahaid," the rustler then said,
brusquely. "I've a job in the cabin heah."

"Haw-haw! ... Wal, Jim, I'll rustle a bit down the trail an' wait. No
huntin' Jean Isbel alone--not fer me. I've had a queer feelin' about
thet knife he used on Greaves. An' I reckon y'u'd oughter let thet
Jorth hussy alone long enough to--"

"Springer, I reckon I've got to hawg-tie her--" His voice became
indistinguishable, and footfalls attested to a slow moving away of the
men.

Jean had listened with ears acutely strung to catch every syllable
while his gaze rested upon Ellen who stood beside the door. Every line
of her body denoted a listening intensity. Her back was toward Jean,
so that he could not see her face. And he did not want to see, but
could not help seeing her naked shoulders. She put her head out of the
door. Suddenly she drew it in quickly and half turned her face, slowly
raising her white arm. This was the left one and bore the marks of
Colter's hard fingers.

She gave a little gasp. Her eyes became large and staring. They were
bent on the hand tha