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supremacy at the Star, and while Haydon was absent on a mysterious
mission, Deveny kept close to the Cache, nursing his resentment against
Haydon, and deepening--with fancied situations--his hatred for Harlan.

It did not surprise Deveny when a Star man rode into the Cache one day
and told him that Harlan had killed Latimer in a gunfight, and that
Harlan was slowly but surely gaining a following among the men. The
information did not surprise Deveny; but it sent his mind into a chaos of
conjecture and speculation, out of which at last a conviction came--that
Harlan was seeking control of the outlaw band; that Haydon's days as a
leader were almost over, so far as he was concerned. For if Haydon
insisted on taking Harlan into the secret councils of the camp
he--Deveny--was going to operate independently.

The more his thoughts dwelt upon that feature the more attractive it
seemed to him. Independence of Haydon meant that he could do as he
pleased without the necessity of consulting anybody. He could rustle
whatever cattle he wanted--getting them where he could without following
Haydon's plans--which had always seemed rather nonsensical, embracing as
they did the scheme of railroad building and town sites; and he could do
as he pleased with Barbara Morgan, not having to consider Haydon at all.

It was that last consideration that finally decided Deveny. He was an
outlaw--not a politician; he robbed for gain, and not for the doubtful
benefits that might be got out of the building of a town. And when he
looked with desire upon a woman he didn't care to share her with another
man--not even Haydon.

For two or three days after the conviction seized Deveny, he pondered
over his chances, and when he reached a decision he acted with the
volcanic energy that had characterized his depredations in the basin.

On the morning of the day upon which Haydon returned to the Star to find
the cattle gone and Harlan in control, Deveny appeared to a dozen Cache
men who were variously engaged near the corral, ordering them to saddle
their horses.

Later, Deveny and his men rode southward across a low plateau that
connected the buttes near the entrance to the Cache with the low hills
that rimmed the basin. They traveled fast, and when they reached the
rimming hills they veered eastward upon a broad sand plain.

There was a grin on Deveny's face now--a grin which expressed craft,
duplicity, and bestial desire. And as he rode at the hea