m him. Yet he kept
moving, twisting himself around until he got on his knees. From that
position he tried a number of times to get to his feet, but he failed
each time.

At last, though, with the help of a boulder that lay beside the trail, he
got his feet under him and stood for an instant, staggering weakly. Then
he began to move forward to his horse. When he managed at last to clutch
the saddle skirt he was reeling, his knees bending under him. However, he
managed to get one leg over the saddle, taking a long time to do it; and
eventually he was in the seat.

He spent another long interval lashing himself to the saddle with the
rope that he carried at the pommel; and then headed the horse toward the
Rancho Seco.

He began to ride, urging the horse to what seemed to him a rapid pace.
But he had not gone very far when he sagged against the pommel,
lifelessly.

CHAPTER XXVI

ROGERS TAKES A HAND

The trail herd had made good progress through the valley, and Rogers,
aided by the Star men, had kept them going. The men feared no
interference with the work, for they had terrorized the ranchers in the
valley until the latter well knew the futility of retaliatory measures.
Still, a certain furtive quickness of movement had always characterized
the operations of the outlaws--the instinct to move secretly, if
possible, and to strike swiftly when they struck was always strong in
them.

Besides, the drive to Willow's Wells was not a long one, and the cattle
could stand a fast pace. So it was not long after the herd had left the
Star until it straggled up a defile in the hills and out upon the level
where Deveny's men had to ride to take the south trail to the Rancho
Seco.

The level extended southward for a distance of several miles to a grass
range that the Star men knew well--for there had been times when they had
grazed cattle there, making camp on their frequent trips to the Wells.

A range of low, flat hills marked the northern limits of the grazing
section; and Rogers and his men trailed the cattle through the hills
while the morning was still young.

The herd was through the hills, and Rogers, twisting in the saddle, was
taking a last look over the plain to make certain there had been no
prying eyes watching the movements of himself and the men, when he saw,
far to the west, a group of horsemen just coming into view at the edge of
the plain--seemingly having ridden out of the big valley.

Rogers whee