in could
not make them out distinctly, but he knew Lefever's yell, and pointed.
"There they are," he exclaimed hurriedly. "There is the whole posse.
They are coming!" A shot, followed closely by a second, rang out from
below. "Go," he cried to Nan. "There'll be shooting here that I can't
stop!" He slapped Sassoon's pony viciously with his hand, yelled loud
in answer to Lefever, and before the startled girl could collect
herself, de Spain, crouching in his saddle, as a fusillade cracked
from Lefever's and Scott's revolvers, urged Sassoon's horse around
Nan's, kicked it violently, spurred past her himself, and was away.
White with consternation and anger, she steadied herself and looked
after the fleeing pair. Then whirling in her saddle, she ran her pony
back to the ranch-house to give the alarm.

Yelling like half a dozen men, Lefever and Scott, as de Spain and his
prisoner dashed toward them, separated, let the pair pass, and spurred
in behind to cover the flight and confront any pursuers. None at the
moment threatened, but no words were exchanged until the whole party,
riding fast, were well past El Capitan and out of the Gap. For some
unexpressed reason--so strong is the influence of tradition and
reputation--no one of the three coveted a close encounter with the
Morgans within its walls.

"It's the long heels for it now, boys," cried de Spain. His companions
closed up again.

"Save your horses," cautioned Scott, between strides. "It's a good
ways home."

"Make for Calabasas," shouted Lefever.

"No," yelled Scott. "They would stand us a siege at Calabasas. While
the trail is open make for the railroad."

A great globe of dazzling gold burst into the east above the distant
hills. But the glory of the sunrise called forth no admiration from
the three men hurrying a fourth urgently along the Sleepy Cat trail.
Between breaths de Spain explained his awkward meeting with Nan, and
of the strait he was in when Lefever's strong lungs enabled him to get
away unscratched. But for a gunman a narrow squeak is as good as a
wide one, and no one found fault with the situation. They had the
advantage--the only question was whether they could hold it. And while
they continued to cast anxious glances behind, Scott's Indian eyes
first perceived signs on the horizon that marked their pursuit.

"No matter," declared Lefever. "This is a little fast for a fat man,
anyway." He was not averse, either, to the prospect of a long-range