ostrils were assailed with the pungent fumes of burning hay and a
man came running toward him.

"The stacks have been fired and the ditches cut! Red saw one of them and
is on his trail!" Afar in the starlight a pistol snapped viciously; it
was answered by a louder detonation, succeeded almost instantly by the
fainter whip of the pistol. Then after a few seconds' interim came yet
again the fainter report and all was silent.

"That's Red's .45," said the man with curt positiveness. "T'other must
have had a Winchester, and he didn't fire but one shot. Red shot last."
They were running full speed toward the burning stacks and Ken chose to
waste no breath in speculative reply. But he was seeing a different red
than that of the flaming hay as he recalled Williams's warning: "Look
out fer Matlock. He's a pizen skunk and he'll stoop to anythin' ter play
even." The fire being incendiary, admitted but one deduction, and he was
praying his gods to give this man into his hands.

"'Twan't Matlock," said Red tersely, in answer to the interrogation in
his comrade's eyes as he rode in to where they were standing helplessly
watching the destruction of what was fortunately the smallest stack on
the ranch, Ken's masterly directions executed by willing hands having
extinguished the others. "'Twer that mizzuble Mexican side-kicker o'
hisn, an' the damned varmint nearly got me. Shot his hoss an' he come
back with his rifle. Got him second shot."

"Yeh fired three," said the man who had summoned Douglass, tentatively.

Red took a chew of tobacco. "Yep. Only winged him an' he possumed on me.
Stuck his knife inter me but she glanced on a rib. He's daid now." His
voice was unemotional but his face was white. Douglass, watching him
sharply, laid his hand on the other's glove.

"Better get up to the shack, Red," he said quietly, "You've lost a lot
of juice."

The man smiled wanly, reeled In his saddle, and clutching fruitlessly at
the horn, slipped limply down into Douglass's supporting arms.
Subsequent examination revealed that he had also been wounded by the
Mexican's rifle shot. There was a ragged hole through the fleshy part of
his thigh and hemorrhage had been profuse. Declining all offers of
assistance, Douglass carried him to the bunkhouse and laid him on the
rough bed. Looking at the white face of the fellow before him, his mouth
resolved itself into a thin cruel line.

"By God, Matlock, you will pay in full for this!" He had uncon