bareheaded and coatless, carrying a rifle in one hand, ran swiftly toward a gulch in the foothills. The man had a good start before the besiegers realized how cleverly they had been outwitted. If there were any riflemen concealed in the growth of timber and underbrush, toward which the man was making his way, they were too surprised to shoot. But bullets began flying from the thicket on the opposite side of the cabin. A few yards from the protecting gulch the runner stumbled and fell heavily. Animated by a determination which even his foes must have admired, he, rose slowly to his knees and then to his feet, using his rifle as a crutch.

The rifle fire had died away, as everybody seemed intent on watching the next move. Then a single shot was heard, as the defender of the cabin started to run again, and the man fell and lay still, his arms outstretched, his face turned to the sky.

The brutality of the killing caused the young Texan to tremble, as if he had been smitten with ague. He had seen sudden death in many forms, but this murder of one man by scores of assassins shook his consciousness to the center. It seemed as if a crime so monstrous could not go unpunished on the instant. Bertram almost looked for a lightning bolt to descend from the blue sky and strike down the riflemen. When the rifle firing had ceased serenity had returned to the scene. The meadow larks resumed their trilling, and, if it had not been for the burning cabin and the two still forms in the clearing, one might imagine that death and destruction could never visit so peaceful a haunt.

Now that their mission at the cabin was over, the invaders paid no further attention to their handiwork. Evidently under orders from Swingley, they swarmed out of the clearing toward the road, ready to take up the march without further delay.

Through his glasses Bertram saw Swingley approach the body at the edge of the clearing. The big cattleman appeared to be writing something. Then he stooped and attached a piece of paper to the dead man’s breast. Turning hastily aside, Swingley strode across the clearing, intent on marshaling his forces.

Bertram saw the dust and heard the clatter of hoofs, as the cavalcade took up its march. Then he could hear the rumble of the wagons. The roof of the cabin fell in with a crash, and the crackling of flames began to subside. The young Texan led his horse down the slope and into the clearing, which had been the center of such spirited conflict.

The body of the first man still 

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