ke rock upon his
rifle.

"Florence isn't in the house," he announced in a voice which, while
calm, seemed not John Engle's voice. "If she is in San Juan it won't
take the half-hour to know it. I'm rather inclined to think that I'm
just a fool, Rod Norton. My wife has told me that Galloway was looking
at Florence in a way which meant no good. I wouldn't believe. And
now, if . . ."

Norton had no reply to make. Florence's disappearance at a time like
this might mean either a very great deal or nothing whatever. But, as
Engle had intimated, it would require but little time to learn if she
were in San Juan and safe, and, as Norton had said, there was no time
now to be wasted. Engle would institute inquiries immediately; Norton,
his own work looming large before him, would prepare to meet Galloway's
latest play.

The sheriff decided promptly that it would be unwise to leave the town
absolutely drained of men in whom he could put faith. It was always
possible that either the entire crowd of Galloway's men or a smaller
detachment might find their way here. Julius Struve, four armed men
aiding him, was to be responsible for the welfare of women and
children. If Galloway's stroke should turn out to be bolder and harder
than was now known, then Struve and his men had horses saddled and were
to get their wards out of danger by hard riding. Norton was to post
two men a few miles out as he rode north and they were to report back
to Struve in case of necessity.

These latter plans were made only at the moment before the sheriff's
departure. A man sent by Brocky Lane had raced into San Juan's street,
bringing fresh word. It began to appear that Galloway was working in
conjunction with aid from below the border. Del Rio with a score of
men, Mexicans for the most part who had dribbled into the county during
the last few months, was reported to have swept down upon John Engle's
ranches, and to be gathering herds of cattle and horses, starting them
southward on the run. Three of Engle's cowboys had been shot down; a
similar attack had been delivered upon other ranches. The little town
of Las Vegas had been looted, post-office, store, and saloon safes
dynamited, stock driven off to augment del Rio's other herds. Further,
the cowboy sent by Lane reported that a signal-fire had been lighted in
the mountains an hour ago and that there had been another fire like an
answer leaping up from the desert in the south. Word ha