with
blood, was carried into the bunk house. Buck waited until all had
assembled again and then, his face dark with anger, spoke sharply and
without the usual drawl: "Skragged from behind, blast them! Get some
grub an' water an' be quick. We'll see who the gent with th' grudge is."

At this point the expostulations of the indignant cook, who, not
understanding the cause, regarded the invasion of china shop bulls as
sacrilegious, came to his ears. Striding quickly to the door, he grabbed
the pan the Mexican was about to throw and, turning the now frightened
man around, thundered, "Keep quiet an' get 'em some grub."

When rifles and ammunition had been secured they mounted and followed
him at a hard gallop along the back trail. No words were spoken, for
none were necessary. All knew that they would not return until they
had found the man for whom they were looking, even if the chase led
to Canada. They did not ask Buck for any of the particulars, for the
foreman was not in the humor to talk, and all, save Hopalong, whose
curiosity was always on edge, recognized only two facts and cared for
nothing else: Johnny had been ambushed and they were going to get the
one who was responsible.

They did not even conjecture as to who it might be, because the trail
would lead them to the man himself, and it mattered nothing who or what
he was--there was only one course to take with an assassin. So they said
nothing, but rode on with squared jaws and set lips, the seven ponies
breast to breast in a close arc.

Soon they came to an arroyo which they took at a leap. As they
approached it they saw signs in the dust which told them that a body had
lain there huddled up; and there were brown spots on the baked alkali.
The trail they followed was now single, Buck having ridden along the
bank of the arroyo when hunting for Johnny, for whom he had orders. This
trail was very irregular, as if the horse had wandered at will. Suddenly
they came upon five tracks, all pointing one way, and four of these
turned abruptly and disappeared in the northwest. Half a mile beyond the
point of separation was a chaparral, which was an important factor to
them.

Each man knew just what had taken place as if he had been an eyewitness,
for the trail was plain. The assassins had waited in the chaparral for
Johnny to pass, probably having seen him riding that way. When he had
passed and his back had been turned to them they had fired and wounded
him severely