"Sure. Those hitched outside belong to us."

"I want you to take a man with you, in a few moments, and ride round the
back roads and up to Sampson's house. Get off and wait under the trees
till you hear me shoot or yell, then come fast."

Morton's breast heaved; he whistled as he breathed; his neck churned.
"God Almighty! So _there_ the scent leads! We always wondered--half
believed. But no one spoke--no one had any nerve." Morton moistened his
lips; his face was livid; his big hands shook. "Russ, you can gamble on
me."

"Good. Well, that's all. Come out and get me a horse."

When I had mounted and was half-way to the Hope So, my plan, as far as
Snecker was concerned, had been formed. It was to go boldy into the
saloon, ask for the rustler, first pretend I had a reply from Morton and
then, when I had Snecker's ear, whisper a message supposedly from
Sampson. If Snecker was too keen to be decoyed I could at least surprise
him off his guard and kill him, then run for my horse. The plan seemed
clever to me. I had only one thing to fear, and that was a possibility
of the rustlers having seen my part in Steele's defense the other day.
That had to be risked. There were always some kind of risks to be faced.

It was scarcely a block and a half to the Hope So. Before I arrived I
knew I had been seen. When I dismounted before the door I felt cold, yet
there was an exhilaration in the moment. I never stepped more naturally
and carelessly into the saloon. It was full of men. There were men
behind the bar helping themselves. Evidently Blandy's place had not been
filled. Every face near the door was turned toward me; dark, intent,
scowling, malignant they were, and made me need my nerve.

"Say, boys, I've a word for Snecker," I called, quite loud. Nobody
stirred. I swept my glance over the crowd, but did not see Snecker. "I'm
in some hurry," I added.

"Bill ain't here," said a man at the table nearest me. "Air you comin'
from Morton?"

"Nit. But I'm not yellin' this message."

The rustler rose, and in a few long strides confronted me.

"Word from Sampson!" I whispered, and the rustler stared. "I'm in his
confidence. He's got to see Bill at once. Sampson sends word he's
quit--he's done--he's through. The jig is up, and he means to hit the
road out of Linrock."

"Bill'll kill him surer 'n hell," muttered the rustler. "But we all said
it'd come to thet. An' what'd Wright say?"

"Wright! Why, he's cashed in. Didn't you-al