rode a compact group of horsemen. They went abreast, in
column of fours, and they were armed to the teeth, a bristling
presentation. All in all there were forty-two of them and at their
head rode Tharon on El Rey, a slim and gallant young figure.

Her bright hair, tied with a scarlet ribbon, shone under her wide hat
like an aureole. She talked with Conford who rode beside her, and now
and then she smiled, for all the world as if she went to some young
folks' gathering, instead of to the first uncertain issue of blind mob
law against outlaws.

But if she felt a lightness of excitement in her heart it was more
than actuated by the grim and quiet band that followed.

They knew--and she knew, also--that what they did this day, in the
open sunlight, meant savage strife and bloodshed for some as sure as
death.

For two hours they rode across the sunken range where the cottonwoods
and aspens made a lovely and mottled shade, to reach at last the sharp
ascent to the uplands above. When they topped the rim and started
forward, the huge herds of Courtrey lay spread before them, bright as
paint on the living green. Two thousand cattle grazed there in peace
and plenty. Here and there a rider sat his horse in idleness. At the
first sight of the solidly formed mass coming out of the Cup Rim on to
the levels, these riders straightened in their saddles and rode in
closer to their charges.

The eyes of the newcomers went over the bright pattern of the grazing
cattle. A motley bunch they were, red, black and white, with here and
there descendants of the yellows which none but John Dement had ever
owned in Lost Valley. Dement, riding near the head of the line saw
this and muttered in his beard.

"Thar's some o' mine," he said pointing, "th' very ones that was
stampeded. I'd know 'em in hell."

[Illustration: SHE TALKED WITH CONFORD WHO RODE BESIDE HER AND NOW AND
THEN SHE SMILED]

With the nearing of the line of horsemen a rider detached himself from
the right of the herd and went sailing away across the levels toward
the distant Stronghold.

Quick as a flash Tharon Last lifted the rifle that lay ready on her
pommel and sent a shot whining toward him.

"Just to show we mean business," she muttered to herself.

The cowboy caught the warning and drew his running horse up to slide
ten feet on its haunches.

He had meant to warn his boss, but a chance was one thing, certainty
another.

"Dixon--Dement," called Tharon rising i