orning, appeared, the two men though talking of indifferent things,
had their eyes fixed on a horseman galloping at breakneck speed down
the long slope of the northern divide. He was now less than a mile
away and the dust thrown from his horse's hoofs rose evenly behind him
in the stillness of the sunshine. He must pass the barn to reach town.
Kate asked a question.

"It may be one of your father's horses," mused Lefever aloud, "and it
rides something like old Bill Bradley."

Still pushing his speed to the limit and cutting in reckless fashion
the turns of the open road, the rider drew rapidly nearer. They could
see he was hatless and coatless and urging his horse. "It's Bradley,"
declared Lefever decisively. Laramie said nothing. Kate instinctively
drew closer to him. The horseman disappeared at that moment behind the
railroad icing plant. The next, he whirled with a sharp clatter of
hoofs into Main Street, and, dashing past Carpy's, pulled his foaming
horse to its haunches in front of Kitchen's barn.

McAlpin and Sawdy were leading the four saddle ponies to the stable
door. The group at Belle's gate could not hear what Bradley shouted;
but they saw McAlpin start. Sawdy, too, spoke quick, and pointed, with
his words, across the way. Bradley jerked his panting horse around and
spurred toward Belle's gate.

The old man, his thin hair flying and his blood-shot eyes bulging,
reined up before Laramie with his arm out, to speak. But the ride and
the excitement had been too much. His features worked convulsively but
he could not utter a word.

"For God's sake, Bill," cried Lefever, catching his arm and jerking
him. "What's up?"

Bradley, his eyes glued on Laramie, got back his voice: "It's Barb,
Jim!" he shouted wildly. "Tom Stone shot him this morning!"

Kate's sharp cry rang in Laramie's ears. He caught her in his arm.
Belle ran out, only adding to the confusion with her scream. Lefever,
joined now by Sawdy and McAlpin, who had hurried over, got Bradley off
his horse, into a chair on the porch, refreshed him with water and
steadied his whisky-wrecked nerves with whisky.

Stone and Van Horn came over from Van Horn's early, Bradley told his
hearers brokenly. They asked for Barb and he was down at the creek.
Barb had sent Bradley about a mile below the house to repair a small
break in the irrigation ditch and had ridden down to show him what he
wanted done. After giving instructions, he had started