out again,
his face ashen.

"What's happened?" he demanded hoarsely, stepping to the side of the
bed and looking down at Peggy.

Peggy told him. The man's face grew gray with the great fear that
clutched him, and he stepped back; then came forward again, looking
keenly at the girl as though he doubted her.

"Nyland killed him--choked him to death?" he said.

Peggy nodded silently. The cringing fear showing in the man's eyes
appalled her. She hated him, and he had done this thing to her, but
she did not want the stigma of another killing on her brother's name.

"Look here, Dale!" she said. "You'd better get out of here--and out of
the country! Okar is all stirred up over what you have done. Sheriff
Warde was in Okar and had a talk with Judge Graney. Warde knows who
killed those men at Devil's Hole, and he is going to hang them. You
are one of them; but you won't hang if Ben catches you. And he is
looking for you! You'd better go--and go fast!"

For an instant Dale stood, looking at Peggy, searching her face and
probing her eyes for signs that she was lying to him. He saw no such
signs. Turning swiftly, he ran down the stairs, out into the street,
and mounting, with his horse already running, he fled toward the basin
and the Bar D.

He had yielded entirely to the presentiment of evil that had tortured
him all day.

All his schemes and plots for the stealing of the Double A and Nyland's
ranch were forgotten in the frenzy to escape that had taken possession
of him, and he spurred his horse to its best efforts as he ran--away
from Okar; as he fled from the vengeance of those forces which his
evilness had aroused.

CHAPTER XXXII

WINNING A FIGHT

After Sanderson shot the big man who had tried to rush him, there was a
silence in the defile. Those of Dale's men who had positions of
security held them, not exposing themselves to the deadly fire of
Sanderson and the others.

For two hours Sanderson clung to his precarious position in the
fissure, until his muscles ached with the strain and his eyes blurred
because of the constant vigil. But he grimly held the place, knowing
that upon him depended in a large measure the safety of the men on the
opposite side of the defile.

The third hour was beginning when Sanderson saw a puff of smoke burst
from behind a rock held by one of his men; he heard the crash of a
pistol, and saw one of Dale's men flop into view from behind a rock
near him.

San