et his employer.
"They're Kitchell's gang, all right. Only he ain't with 'em."

"_Patron_--" For the first time since he had known him Drew saw Bartolome
Rivas run. He was weaving in and out among the fallen men in the pass.
"They ride." He was half choked by the effort to force his message past
heavy gulps for breath.

"Who rides?" Rennie demanded.

"Three--four men ... that way." He waved a plump hand to the east. "They go
like the wind, _Don_ Cazar. And one--he rides the big gray!"

Drew whirled. The big gray--there was only one horse to be named so on the
Range. Some of the outlaws had escaped the trap and one was riding Shiloh!
Drew found the horse with the tangled rein, jerked and tore at the leather
strap, and was in the saddle when a hand caught at the rein he had just
freed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Hunt Rennie demanded.

Drew snapped the rein out from the other's hold. There was only one thing
he wanted now, and that was getting farther and farther away with every
second he wasted here.

"After Shiloh!" He used spurs on the horse and it leaped ahead. For all he
knew any one of the posse might take a shot at him, so he rode low in the
saddle. He heard startled cries, saw Bartolome Rivas stumble as he got out
of the path of the wild horse. There were rocks, sand, a body which the
horse avoided in a leap, then there was free ground and Drew settled down
to ride.

A horse was coming up from behind--they need not think they were going to
stop him now. Drew turned his head as the mount pulled level with his own.
He was ready to fight if need be. Only the man in the saddle was Hunt
Rennie.

"Better find out which way to go before you break your neck or that bay's
legs," Rennie called. "Out beyond that pillar--then east."

Drew nodded. But Rennie did not fall back. He was riding his heavy duty
horse, a grulla famous for its staying power. And now the Kentuckian
regained his proper share of common sense and began to pull in the bay. As
his father had pointed out, a broken neck or a horse's broken leg was not
going to bring Shiloh any closer. He heard the sound of other horses and
glanced back as they wheeled around the pillar to the east.

Four riders were bunched--Anse, Nye, Teodoro, and Donally. That made six of
them in all, pursuing four fugitives over miles of countryside which might
have been shaped with no other purpose in mind than to shelter men on the
run. But perhaps they could come up