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of the ground to snake forward unobserved for another hundred feet。 There
was a dip from the foot of the tree； down which he rolled into the sage
below。 He wormed his way through the thick scrub brush to the edge of a
dry creek； into the bed of which he slid。 Then swiftly； his body bent
beneath the level of the bank； he ran forward in the sand。 He moved
noiselessly； eyes and ears alert to aid him； and climbed the bank at a point
where a live oak grew。
Warily he peeped out from behind its trunk and swept the plain for his
foe。 Nothing was to be seen of him。 Slowly and patiently his eyes again
went over the semi…circle before him； for where death may lurk behind
every foot of vegetation； every bump or hillock； the plainsman leaves as
little as may be to chance。 No faintest movement could escape the
sheepman's eyes； no least stir fail to apprise his ears。 Yet for many minutes
he waited in vain； and the delay told him that he had to do with a trained
hunter rather than a mere reckless cow…puncher。 For somewhere in the
rough country before him his enemy lay motionless； every faculty alive to
the least hint of his presence。
It was the whirring flight of a startled dove that told Bannister the
whereabouts of his foe。 Two hundred yards from him the bird rose； and the
direction it took showed that the man must have been trailing forward
from the opposite quarter。 The sheepman slipped back into the dry creek
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bed； retraced his steps for about a stone…throw； and again crawled up the
bank。
For a long time he lay face down in the grass； his gaze riveted to the
spot where he knew his opponent to be hidden。 A faint rustle not born of
the wind stirred the sage。 Still Bannister waited。 A less experienced
plainsman would have blazed away and exposed his own position。 But not
this young man with the steel…wire nerves。 Silent as the coming of dusk；
no breaking twig or displaced brush betrayed his self…contained presence。
Something in the clump he watched wriggled forward and showed
indistinctly through an opening in the underscrub。 He whipped his rifle
into position and fired twice。 The huddled brown mass lurched forward
and disappeared。
〃Wonder if I got him？ Seems to me I couldn't have missed clean；〃
thought Bannister。
Silence as before； vast and unbroken。
A scramble of running feet tearing a path through the brush； a
crouching body showing darkly for an eyeflash； and then the pounding of
a horse's retreating feet。
Bannister leaped up； ran lightly across the intervening space； and with
his repeater took a potshot at the galloping horseman。
〃Missed！〃 he muttered； and at once gave a sharp whistle that brought
his pony to him on the trot。 He vaulted to the saddle and gave chase。 It was
rough going； but nothing in reason can stop a cow…pony。 As sure footed as
a mountain goat； as good a climber almost as a cat； Buck followed the
flying horseman over perilous rock rims and across deep…cut creek beds。
Pantherlike he climbed up the steep creek sides without hesitation； for the
round…up had taught him never to falter at stiff going so long as his rider
put him at it。
It was while he was clambering out of the sheer sides of a wash that
Bannister made a discovery。 The man he pursued was wounded。
Something in the manner of the fellow's riding had suggested this to him；
but a drop of blood splashed on a stone that happened to meet his eye
made the surmise a certainty。
He was gaining nownot fast； almost imperceptibly； but none the less
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surely。 He could see the man looking over his shoulder； once； twice； and
then again； with that hurried； fearful glance that measures the approach of
retribution。 Barring accidents； the man was his。
But the unforeseen happened。 Buck stepped in the hole of a prairie dog
and went down。 Over his head flew the rider like a stone from a catapult。
How long Ned Bannister lay unconscious he never knew。 But when he
came to himself it was none too soon。 He sat up dizzily and passed his
hand over his head。 Something had happened。
What was it？ Oh； yes； he had been thrown from his horse。 A wave of
recollection passed over him； and his mind was clear once more。 Presently
he got to his feet and moved rather uncertainly toward Buck； for the horse
was grazing quietly a few yards from him。
But half way to the pony he stopped。 Voices； approaching by way of
the bed of Dry Creek； drifted to him。
〃He must 'a' turned and gone back。 Mebbe he guessed we was there。〃
And a voice that Bannister knew； one that had a strangely penetrant；
cruel ring of power through the drawl； made answer： 〃Judd said before he
fainted he was sure the man was Ned Bannister。 I'd ce'tainly like to meet
up with my beloved cousin right now and even up a few old scores。 By
God； I'd make him sick before I finished with him！〃
〃I'll bet y'u would； Cap；〃 returned the other； admiringly。 〃Think we'd
better deploy here and beat up the scenery a few as we go？〃
There are times when the mind works like lightning； flashes its
messages on the wings of an electric current。 For Bannister this was one of
them。 The whole situation lighted for him plainly as if it had been
explained for an hour。
His cousin had been out with a band of his cut…throats on some errand；
and while returning to the fastnesses of the Shoshone Mountains had
stopped to noon at a cow spring three or four miles from the Lazy D。 Judd
Morgan； whom he knew to be a lieutenant of the notorious bandit； had
ridden toward the ranch in the hope of getting an opportunity to vent his
anger against its mistress or some of her men。 While pursuing the
renegade Bannister had stumbled into a hornet's nest； and was in imminent
danger of being stung to death。 Even now the last speaker was scrambling
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up the bank toward him。
The sheepman had to choose between leaving his rifle and immediate
flight。 The latter was such a forlorn hope that he gave up Buck for the
moment； and ran back to the place where his repeating Winchester had
fallen。 Without stopping he scooped the rifle up as he passed。 In his day he
had been a famous sprinter； and he scudded now for dear life。 It was no
longer a question of secrecy。 The sound of men breaking their hurried way
through the heavy brush of the creek bank came crisply to him。 A voice
behind shouted a warning； and from not a hundred yards in front of him
came an answering shout。 Hemmed in from the fore and the rear； he
swung off at a right angle。 An open stretch lay before him； but he had to
take his desperate chance without cover。 Anything was better than to be
trapped like a wild beast driven by the beaters to the guns。
Across the bare； brown mesa he plunged； and before he had taken a
dozen steps the first rifle had located its prey and was sniping at him。 He
had perhaps a hundred yards to cover ere the mesa fell away into a hollow；
where he might find temporary protection in the scrub pines。 And now a
second marksman joined himself to the first。 But he was going fast；
already had covered half the distance； and it is no easy thing to bring down
a live； dodging target。
Again the first gun spoke； and scored another miss； whereat a mocking；
devilish laugh rang out in the sunshine。
〃Y'u boys splash a heap of useless lead around the horizon。 I reckon
Cousin Ned's my meat。 Y'u see； I get him in the flapper without spoiling
him complete。〃 And at the word he flung the rifle to his shoulder and fired
with no apparent aim。
The running man doubled up like a cottontail； but found his feet again
in an instant； though one arm hung limp by his side。 He was within a
dozen feet of the hilldrop and momentary safety。
〃Shall I take him； Cap？〃 cried one of the men。
〃No； he's mine。〃