their
attempts upon his life. But whatever it was that he cogitated he kept
to himself, only turning his eyes back toward the house, where his two
men lay on the ground. The face of one was turned upward. In the
draining light of the spent day it looked as white as innocence.

As Dalton drew his eyes away from the fearful evidence of his plan's
miscarriage, the sound of hard riding came from the direction of the
settlement up the river. Macdonald listened a moment as the sound
grew.

"That will be no friend of yours, Dalton. Get out of this!"

He cut Dalton's horse a sharp blow. The beast bounded away with a
start that almost unseated its dizzy rider; the two free animals
galloped after it. Chance Dalton was on his way to Chadron with his
burden of disgrace and disastrous news. It seemed a question to
Macdonald, as he watched him weaving in the saddle as the gloom closed
around him and shut him from sight, whether he ever would reach the
ranchhouse to recount his story, whatever version of the tragedy he
had planned.

Tom Lassiter drew up before Macdonald's gate while the dust of
Dalton's going was still hanging there. The gaunt old homesteader with
the cloud of sorrows in his eyes said that he had been on his way over
to see what had become of Macdonald in his lone hunt for Mark Thorn.
He had heard the shooting, and the sound had hurried him forward.

Macdonald told him what had happened, and took him in to see the
wreckage left after that sudden storm. Tom shook his head as he stood
in the yard looking down at the two dead men.

"Hell's a-goin' to pop now!" he said.

"I think you've said the word, Tom," Macdonald admitted. "They'll come
back on me hard for this."

"You'll never have to stand up to 'em alone another time, I'll give
you a guarantee on that, Mac."

"I'm glad to hear it," Macdonald replied, but wearily, and with no
warmth or faith in his words.

"And they let that old scorpeen loose to skulk and kill ag'in!"

"Yes, he got away."

"They sure did oncork a hornet's nest when they come here this time,
though, they sure did!" Tom stood in the door, looking into the
darkening room and at the figure sprawled across the bed. "He-ell's
a-goin' to pop now!" he said again, in slow words scarcely above his
breath.

He turned his head searchingly, as if he expected to see the cloud of
it already lowering out of the night.

CHAPTER XI

THE SENOR BOSS COMES RIDING

Nola Chadron had been a