on their trail
again, though," Anse commented.

"They need water. Accordin' to what this guide of theirs says, they'll
need it doubly bad before they finish that road of his. They might just be
crazy enough to try here--men have gotten away with tricks such as that
before."

"Drew." Anse was only a shadow among shadows, a voice out of the dark now.
"You made up your mind about what you're goin' to do when this is all
over?"

"Pull out--California maybe. I don't know."

"Sure you don't want to stay?"

"No!" Drew put explosive emphasis into his reply.

"A man can be too stubborn an' stiff-necked for his own good--"

"A man has to do what he has to," Drew snapped. "I'm turnin' in. Give me
th' nudge when it's time."

He rolled in a blanket, settled himself with his Colt close to hand, and
lay gazing up into the cloudy sky. What was the matter with him, anyway?
All he had to do was stick to his decision. And that _was_ the best one
for him. Resolutely he closed his eyes and tried to will his mind a blank,
himself into slumber.

"Drew--!"

Before his eyes were fairly open his hand was reaching for the Colt, only
to meet a numbing blow on the wrist. The Kentuckian rolled in instinctive
reaction and a second, body-jarring stroke caught him in the ribs. He was
left gasping, still not fully aware of what had happened.

"All right, you--on your feet!" A hand hooked in the collar of his coat to
jerk him up. Somehow Drew did find his feet and stood bent over, his hands
to his bruised side, breathing in small painful gasps. A rib had either
been broken in that assault, or it was cracked.

There were two--three--four figures moving in the moonlight. Then the one
fronting him turned and he saw the face clearly. Shannon!

"Only three of 'em--Benito an' these two," one of the others reported.

"How's Benito?" There was authority in that inquiry, but it came from the
one man who kept well back in the shadows.

"Got him a holed shoulder."

"Able to ride?"

"Dunno, suh."

"He'd better be. We need him to find Graverro. These two we don't need."

"That's where you're wrong, Colonel. This here's about th' best cover we
could git us now." Shannon laughed. "Mister Drew Rennie, come outta
Kentucky to find his pa--touchin' story, ain't it? Real touchin'--like
somethin' outta a book. Well, does his pa find us, his sonny boy'd be real
handy, now wouldn't he?"

"You have a point, Shannon. We'll take him."

"An' th' other