assuming that he had guessed
aright as to the destination of the outlaws--he could not tell. It would
be, at best, a near thing. For, though he had come more directly, they had
followed a trail which made the going much faster. Fast as the cow pony
could pick its way along the rock-strewn gulch, he descended, eye and ear
alert to detect the presence of another human being in this waste of
boulders, of moonlit, flickering shadows, of dark awesome peaks.

His quick ear caught the faintest of sounds. He slipped from the saddle
and stole swiftly forward to the point where the gulch joined the main
canyon. Voices drifted to him--the sound of careless laughter, wafted by
the light night wind. He had missed the outlaws by scarce a hundred yards.
There was nothing for it but to follow cautiously. As he was turning to go
back for his horse the moon emerged from behind a cloud and flooded the
canyon with a cold, silvery light. It showed Jack a man and a horse
standing scarce twenty yards from him. The man had his back to him. He had
dismounted, and was tightening the cinches of his saddle.

Flatray experienced a pang of disappointment. He was unarmed. His second
thought sent him flying noiselessly back to his horse. Deftly he unloosed
the rope which always hung coiled below the saddle horn. On tiptoe he ran
back to the gulch mouth, bearing to the right, so as to come directly
opposite the man he wanted. As he ran he arranged the lariat to his
satisfaction, freeing the loop and making sure that the coil was not
bound. Very cautiously he crept forward, taking advantage for cover of a
boulder which rose from the bed of the gulch.

The man had finished tightening the girth. His foot rose to the stirrup.
He swung up from the ground, and his right leg swept across the flank of
the pony. It did not reach the stirrup; for, even as he rose, Jack's
lariat snaked forward and dropped over his head to his breast. It
tightened sharply and dragged him back, pinioning his arms to his side.
Before he could shake one of them free to reach the revolver in his chaps,
he was lying on his back, with Flatray astride of him. The cattleman's
left hand closed tightly upon his windpipe, while the right searched for
and found the weapon in the holster of the prostrate man.

Not until the steel rim of it pressed against the teeth of the man beneath
him did Jack's fingers loosen. "Make a sound, and you're a dead man."

The other choked and gurgled. He was