waited until after breakfast--when the men were
congregated outside the bunkhouse door--when he was certain they would
all hear him.

Harlan had come out, too. He had not visited the Rancho Seco for more
than a week, fearing that his absence might jeopardize the advantage he
had gained over the men through the killing of Latimer.

With the attention of all the men centered upon him, Rogers walked close
to Harlan, speaking loudly:

"Them cattle ought to hit the trail, Harlan. It's up to you--you're the
boss. Do we move 'em--an' where?"

A comprehensive light gleamed in Harlan's eyes.

"They move," he said shortly. "Drive them where you've been drivin'
them."

As though he had been giving orders to the outlaws all his life, he
briskly mentioned the names of the men who were to form the trail herd.

Not a man dissented. Those whose names were called quickly detached
themselves from the group, and sought the horse corral; where they roped
their horses and began to make preparations to obey Harlan's order. And
later, when the cattle were driven out of the corral, and the trail herd
crew straggled behind them over the level that led southward, the men
were grinning.

For Harlan had told them that their share of the spoils resulting from
the sale of the cattle was to be materially increased. He had likewise
told them that they might spend an extra day in "town" before their
return.

Only one man besides Harlan remained at the Star after the herd vanished
into the southern distance. That man was the black-bearded fellow who had
escorted Harlan to the ranchhouse on the occasion of his first
visit--Lafe Woodward.

This man's admiration for Harlan had never been concealed. He had stayed
as close to Harlan as possible; and from his manner Harlan had divined
that the man was eager to ingratiate himself.

Woodward stood near Harlan as the herd and the men vanished. He had
grinned widely when, just before the outfit had departed, he had heard
Rogers whisper to Harlan:

"You've made yourself solid with the bunch, for sure, by offerin' 'em a
bigger divvy. They've been grumblin' about it for a long time. They're
all sore at Haydon an' Deveny for bein' greedy. But you're sure cookin'
up a heap of trouble with Haydon an' Deveny!"

Harlan grinned with grim mirthlessness. It had been his first opportunity
to stir up dissension and strife in the outlaw camp, and he had taken
instant advantage of it. He had created factional