ward the camp. A dead silence
filled the wide level from which the stampede had started--a silence
except for the faint bellowing that still reached his ears from the
direction of the Hole.

Half a mile from where he had found the pitiable remnants of Soapy he
came upon Carter. The range boss was lying prone on his back, his body
apparently unmarred. His horse was standing near him, grazing. Carter
had not been in the path of the herd.

What, then, had happened to him?

Sanderson dismounted and went to his knees beside the man. At first he
could see no sign of anything that might have caused death--for Carter
was undoubtedly dead--and already stiffening! Then he saw a red patch
staining the man's shirt, and he examined it. Carter had been shot.
Sanderson stood up and looked around. There was no one in sight. He
mounted Streak and began to ride toward the camp, for he felt that
Carter's death had resulted from an accident. One explanation was that
a stray bullet had killed Carter--in the excitement of a stampede the
men were apt to shoot wildly at refractory steers.

But the theory of accident did not abide. Halfway between Carter and
the camp Sanderson came upon Bud. Bud was lying in a huddled heap. He
had been shot from behind. Later, continuing his ride to camp,
Sanderson came upon the other men.

He found the Kid and the cook near the chuck wagon, Sogun and Andy were
lying near the fire, whose last faint embers were sputtering feebly;
Buck was some distance away, but he, too, was dead!

Sanderson went from one to the other of the men, to make a final
examination. Bending over Sogun, he heard the latter groan, and in an
instant Sanderson was racing to the river for water.

He bathed Sogun's wound--which was low on the left side, under the
heart, and, after working over him for five or ten minutes, giving him
whisky from a flask he found in the chuck wagon, and talking to the man
in an effort to force him into consciousness, he was rewarded by seeing
Sogun open his eyes.

Sogun looked perplexedly at Sanderson, whose face was close.

There was recognition in Sogun's eyes--the calm of reason was swimming
in them.

He half smiled. "So you wriggled out of it, boss, eh? It was a
clean-up, for sure. I seen them get the other boys. I emptied my gun,
an' was fillin' her again when they got me."

"Who?" demanded Sanderson sharply.

"Dale an' his gang. They was a bunch of them--twenty, mebbe.