he
little old man who had worked for him so long and faithfully. But
that was all. They carried him home to Last's and buried him decently
at dawn.

Then the Vigilantes again rode out. At their head was Tharon; though
both Kenset and Billy tried to dissuade her.

At Corvan, Banner went through the town like a wind, asking for the
gun of every man he met. By noon every .44 had been examined, one
shell exploded. Not one left the nicked, uneven sign of the mysterious
hammer which had snapped its death into Old Pete's heart.

When the sun was straight overhead and all Lost Valley was sweet with
the summer haze, the Vigilantes, close packed and silent, swung out
toward the Stronghold.

It was blue-dusk when they drew up at the corrals beside the fortress
house. Lounging around in cat-like quiet were some thirty men, riders,
gun men, _vaqueros_.

When Banner called for Courtrey there was a sound of boots on the
board floors, inside, a woman's pleading voice, and the cattle king
came swinging out, his hands at his waist, his two guns covering the
crowd.

Tall, straight as a lance, his iron-grey head uncovered, he was a
striking figure of a man. His henchmen watched him sharply. At his
side clung the slim woman, Ellen, her milky face thin and tragic. He
shook her loose and faced the newcomers.

"Well?" he snapped, "what's this?"

"Courtrey," said Banner, "we're here in th' name o' th' law. We demand
t' see them guns o' yours."

If the knowledge that Jim Banner was a brave man needed confirmation,
it had it in that speech. Few men in the world could have made it, and
gotten away with it. None in a different setting. Courtrey heard it,
but he paid little heed to it at the moment. His eyes went to the face
of Tharon Last and drank in its beauty hungrily.

Presently he shifted his gaze and regarded Kenset with a cold light
that was evil.

"Who wants 'em?" he asked drawlingly.

"We do."

"Hell! Want _Courtrey's_ guns! You're modest, Jim.

"An' what do you want, Tharon?"

In spite of the tenseness of the moment the voice that had laughed at
death and torture in Round Valley became melting soft as it addressed
the girl.

"Law!" said Tharon, "Law--th' law I promised you on Baston's porch!"

"Yes? An' how do you think you'll get that? If I nod my head we'll
drive this bunch o' spawn out o' here so quick it'll make your head
swim! What do you think you're doin'?"

"I don't _think_. I _know_ now. Know what we can