tellin' me about the raid
when Pete steps up and tells him to say it over ag'in. Steve started
to talk when Pete cuts down on him--twict. My God, he was quick! I
never even seen him draw."

"Did Gary say _he_ was the one that plugged Annersley?"

"Yep. Said he did it--and asked Pete what he was goin' to do about it."

"Then Steve was drunk or crazy. You go git a horse and burn the trail
to Concho. Tell Sutton that Young Pete Annersley killed Gary, up to
the Blue Mesa. Tell him we're out after Young Pete. Can you git that
straight?"

"What if the sheriff was to pinch me for bein' in that scrap?"

"You! In a gun-fight? No. He wouldn't believe that if you told him
so. You jest tell Sutton what I said, and git goin'! Don't lie to
him--or he'll spot it and pinch you dam' quick."

With Cotton gone, Houck saddled up and rode out to where one of his men
was mending fence. "Take your horse and git all the boys you can reach
before night. Young Pete Annersley shot Steve over to the Blue this
mornin'."

The cowboy, unlike Cotton, whistled his surprise, dropped his tools,
mounted, and was off before Houck had reined back toward the
ranch-house.

It was near twelve that night when a quiet band of riders dismounted at
the Annersley cabin, separated, and trailed off in the darkness to look
for Gary. One of them found him where he had fallen and signaled with
his gun. They carried Gary to the cabin. In the flickering light of
the open stove they saw that he was still alive. There was one chance
in a thousand that he could recover. They washed his wounds and one of
the men set out toward Concho, to telephone to Enright for a doctor.
The rest grouped around the stove and talked in low tones, waiting for
daylight. "Chances are the kid went south," said Houck, half to
himself.

"How about young White?" queried a cowboy.

"I dunno. Either he rode with Pete Annersley or he's back at the
Concho. Daylight'll tell."

"If Steve could talk--" said the cowboy.

"I guess Steve is done for," said Houck. "I knew Young Pete was a
tough kid--but I didn't figure he'd try to down Steve."

"Supposin' they both had a hand in it--White and Young Pete?"

Houck shook his head. "Anybody got any whiskey?" he asked.

Some one produced a flask. Houck knelt and raised Gary's head, tilting
the flask carefully. Presently Gary's lips moved and his chest heaved.

"Who was it? White?" questioned Houck.

Gary moved his h