first man who had surrendered where they had left
their horses. The animals were brought, and the men forced to mount
them. Then, the Dale men riding ahead, Sanderson and the others
behind, they began the return trip.

When they reached the open country above the defile, Sanderson rode
close to Williams.

"There's enough of you to take care of this gang," he said, indicating
the prisoners; "I'm goin' to hit the breeze to the Double A an' see
what's happened there!"

"Sure!" agreed Williams. "Beat it!"

When Streak got the word he leaped forward at a pace that gave Williams
an idea of how he had gained his name. He flashed by the head of the
moving columns and vanished into the growing darkness, running with
long, swift, sure leaps that took him over the ground like a feather
before a hurricane.

But fast as he went, he did not travel too rapidly for Sanderson. For
in Sanderson's heart also lurked a premonition of evil. But he did not
fear it; it grimmed his lips, it made his eyes blaze with a wanton,
savage fire; it filled his heart with a bitter passion to slay the man
who had stayed behind at the Double A ranchhouse.

And he urged Streak to additional effort, heading him recklessly
through sections of country where a stumble meant disaster, lifting him
on the levels, and riding all the time with only one thought in
mind--speed, speed, speed.

CHAPTER XXXIII

A MAN LEAVES OKAR

Riding the hard trail through the basin, from its neck at Okar to the
broad, upward slope that led to the Double A ranchhouse, came another
man, who also was sacrificing everything to speed. His horse was
fresh, and he spared it not at all as he swept in long, smooth, swift
undulations over the floor of the basin.

Ben Nyland's lips were as straight and hard as were those of the other
man who was racing toward the Double A from another direction; his face
was as grim, and his thoughts were as bitter and savage.

When he reached the bottom of the long, gentle slope that stretched to
the Double A ranchhouse he did not spare his horse. The terrible spurs
sank in again and again, stirring the animal to a frenzy of effort, and
he rushed up the slope as though it were a level, snorting with pain
and fury, but holding the pace his rider demanded of him.

And when he reached the corral fence near the Double A ranchhouse, and
his rider dismounted and ran forward, the horse heaved a sigh of relief
and stood, bracing his legs