t for this gorge,
and found the other three waiting.

"Where in hell you be'n?" asked one, "we be'n here sence noon." Purdy
eyed the speaker with contempt: "Who wants to know?" he asked and
receiving no answer, continued, "where I be'n is my business. Why don't
you ask Cass where he's be'n, sometime? If you fellers are goin' to
follow my lead, I'll be boss--an' where I've be'n is my own business."

"That's right," assented one of the others, in a conciliating tone.
"Don't git to scrappin' amongst ourselves. What we wanted to tell you:
the Flyin' A's raid is off."

"Off!" cried Purdy, "what do you mean, off?"

"Cass told me this noon. The IX rodeo has worked down this side of the
mountains, an' it'll be a week before the slope's clear of riders."

Purdy broke into a torrent of curses. The Flying A horse raid, planned
for that very night, was to have been the end of Cass Grimshaw. He was
to have been potted by his own men--both Cass and his loyal henchman,
Bill.

After a few moments Purdy quieted down. He rolled a cigarette and as he
smoked his brows knitted into a frown. Finally he slapped his leg. "All
right, then--he'll take it where he gits it!" The others waited. "It's
this way," he explained, "we ain't got time to dope it all today--but be
here tomorrow noon. Tonight everything goes as usual--tomorrow night,
Cass Grimshaw goes to hell--an' it'll be the Purdy gang then, an' we
won't stop at horse-runnin' neither." The men looked from one to the
other, uneasily. "It's better this way anyhow," announced Purdy, "we'll
bump him off, an' collect the reward. I know a feller that'll collect
it--I've got somethin' on him--he's got to."

"We're all in the gang," muttered the man who had asked Purdy where he
had been, "looks like if you had somethin' on someone you'd let us all
in."

"Not by a damn sight! If I did, what would keep you from double-crossin'
me, an' goin' after him yerselves. All you got to do is be here tomorrow
noon--then we'll cut the cards to see who does the trick."

Grumbling dubiously, the men caught up their horses, and scattering
approached the hang-out from different directions. As Purdy rode he
scowled blackly, cursing venomously the heavens overhead, the earth
beneath, and all the inhabitants thereof. "I overplayed my hand when I
made Cinnabar sore," he muttered. "But he'll come around in a week.
Trouble is, I've took too much on. Cass an' Bill'll git theirn tomorrow
night, that'll give me