e, for the purpose of intimidating those people who had
begun to be restless under the influence of the Ranger. After that, big
herds of stock were to be rustled off the ranches to the north and
driven to El Paso.

Then the big man, who evidently was the leader of the present
convention, got up to depart. He went as swiftly as he had come, and was
followed by the slender fellow. As far as it was possible for me to be
sure, I identified these two as Snecker and his son. The others,
however, remained. Blome removed his mask, which action was duplicated
by the two rustlers who had stayed with him. They were both young,
bronzed, hard of countenance, not unlike cowboys. Evidently this was now
a social call on Sampson. He set out cigars and liquors for his guests,
and a general conversation ensued, differing little from what might have
been indulged in by neighborly ranchers. There was not a word spoken
that would have caused suspicion.

Blome was genial, gay, and he talked the most. Wright alone seemed
uncommunicative and unsociable. He smoked fiercely and drank
continually. All at once he straightened up as if listening. "What's
that?" he called suddenly.

The talking and laughter ceased. My own strained ears were pervaded by a
slight rustling sound.

"Must be a rat," replied Sampson in relief. Strange how any sudden or
unknown thing weighed upon him.

The rustling became a rattle.

"Sounds like a rattlesnake to me," said Blome.

Sampson got up from the table and peered round the room. Just at that
instant I felt an almost inappreciable movement of the adobe wall which
supported me. I could scarcely credit my senses. But the rattle inside
Sampson's room was mingling with little dull thuds of falling dirt. The
adobe wall, merely dried mud was crumbling. I distinctly felt a tremor
pass through it. Then the blood gushed with sickening coldness back to
my heart and seemingly clogged it.

"What in the hell!" exclaimed Sampson.

"I smell dust," said Blome sharply.

That was the signal for me to drop down from my perch, yet despite my
care I made a noise.

"Did you hear a step?" queried Sampson.

Then a section of the wall fell inward with a crash. I began to squeeze
my body through the narrow passage toward the patio.

"Hear him!" yelled Wright. "This side."

"No, he's going that way," yelled someone else. The tramp of heavy boots
lent me the strength and speed of desperation. I was not shirking a
fight, but to