me and
wait."

Such talk as this made a great impression on some of the rustlers and
again opened up the subject of letting Larkin off. But the majority held
firm and the sentence stood.

It was perhaps eight o'clock when the party of four approached Larkin and
roused him up. This time his hands were bound behind his back and he
noticed that the masked rustler was fastening them tightly but with a
rotten rawhide. This peculiar circumstance caused a wild thrill to flash
all through Larkin's being. Perhaps, after all, here was the weak link in
the rustler's chain. The surmise became a certainty when the man,
unobserved by his companions, sawed Bud's arms back and forth, showing him
the quickest and easiest way to work them loose.

Then came the greatest surprise of all. The man, who had spoken no word
the whole time, thrust a heavy .45 revolver into his trouser-pocket. To
permit this being done the eight-inch barrel had been sawed off five
inches short, ruining the gun for ordinary use, but making it particularly
handy and light for close work.

This action convinced Larkin that the man in the mask was not only willing
that he should escape, but was actually determined that the event should
occur. He also knew that he could count on the support of this ally in the
final moment when the four men must fight it out two and two.

Whether this sudden change of aspect was the result of a determination by
a minority of the rustlers not to let the execution take place, or whether
by some miraculous means one of his own friends had succeeded in joining
the organization, he could not determine, although he tried to sound the
man in the mask when the others were busy with their horses. His only
reply was a low hiss commanding silence.

A quarter past the hour found them on their way, the ponies picking their
path gingerly over the bad ground until they reached the range. Here the
three rustlers drew up short, for in the distance could be seen the
twinkling of a camp-fire.

"One of the Bar T punchers," said Joe; "but I reckon he won't hear us."

For half a mile further they walked their horses, and then urged them to a
trot in the direction of the river whose tree-lined banks they had seen
late in the afternoon. They paused only once in this place, and then to
cross a small stream that lay in their path.

As he rode Larkin worked his arms cautiously back and forth until he felt
the rotten rawhide give, and knew that a sing