been standing there was now but vacancy. The
night and the rolling ground had swallowed the avengers up as completely
as though they had never existed; and the Scotchman rode slowly back.

It was yet dark, but the eastern sky was reddening, when they reached
the chain of bluffs bordering the great river. They had made their plans
before, so that now without hesitating they split as though upon the
edge of a mighty wedge, half to the right, half to the left, each
division separating again into its individual members, until the whole,
like two giant hands whereof the cowboys, half a mile apart from each
other, were the fingers, moved forward until the end finger all but
touched the river itself.

Still there was no pause. The details had been worked out to a nicety.
They had bent far to the south, miles farther than any man aiming at the
Wyoming border would have gone, and now, having arrived at the barrier,
they wheeled north again. It was getting daylight, and cowboy Pete,--in
our simile the left little finger,--first to catch sight of the surface
of the stream, waved in triumph to the nearest rider on his right.

"We've got him, sure!" he yelled. "She's open in spots"; and though the
others could not hear, they understood the meaning, and the message went
on down the line.

On, on, more swiftly now, at a stiff gallop, for it was day, the riders
advanced. As they moved, first one rider and then another would
disappear, as a depression in the uneven country temporarily swallowed
them up--but only to reappear again over a prominent rise, still
galloping on. They watched each other closely now, searching the
surrounding country. They were nearing a region where they might expect
action at any moment,--the remains of a camp-fire, a clue to him they
sought,--for it was on a line directly west of the Big B ranch.

And they were not to be disappointed. Observing closely, Stetson, who
was nearest to Pete, saw the latter suddenly draw up his horse and come
to a full stop. At last the end had arrived--at last; and the rancher
turned to motion to his right. Only a moment the action took, but when
he shifted back he saw a sight which, stolid gambler as he was, sent a
thrill through his nerves, a mumbling curse to his lips. Coming toward
him, crazy-scared, bounding like an antelope, mane flying, stirrups
flapping, was the pony Pete had ridden, but now riderless. Of the cowboy
himself there was not a sign. Stetson had not heard a