laboring; and when she finally opened her
eyes to gaze again into Deveny's, they were filled with a haunting
hopelessness--a complete surrender to the sinister circumstances which
seemed to have surrounded her from the beginning.

"Harlan," she said weakly, as though upon him she had pinned her last
hope; "Harlan has joined you after all--he is against me--too?"

"Him and Haydon are after the Rancho Seco. Harlan's been playing with
Haydon right along."

Barbara said nothing more. She was incapable of coherent thought or of
definite action--or even of knowledge of her surroundings.

For it seemed to her that Deveny had spoken truthfully. She had seen the
incident of the broken chain; she had seen Harlan's hypocritical grin
upon that occasion--how he had seemed to be eager to ingratiate himself
with Haydon.

All were against her--everybody. Everybody, it seemed, but Red Linton.
And they had killed Linton.

She seemed to be drifting off into a place which was peopled with demons
that schemed and planned for her honor and her life; and not one of them
who planned and schemed against her gave the slightest indication of
mercy or manliness. The world became chaotic with swirling objects--then
a blank, aching void into which she drifted, feeling nothing, seeing
nothing.

CHAPTER XXX

THE ULTIMATE TREACHERY

When Barbara regained consciousness she was lying in some long, dusty
grass beside the trail where she seemed to have been thrown, or where she
had fallen. For she was lying on her right side, her right arm doubled
under her, and she felt a pain in her shoulder which must have been where
she had struck when she had fallen.

She twisted around and sat up, bewildered, almost succumbing to the
hideous terror which instantly gripped her when she remembered what had
happened.

Deveny's horse stood near her, nipping the tips of the grass that grew at
her feet. Beyond the animal--a little to her right, and perhaps fifty
feet from her--were other horses, with riders.

As she staggered to her feet she recognized the men who had been with
Deveny. They were on their horses--all facing away from her. Facing
Deveny's men were all the T Down boys--she recognized them instantly.
Pistols glittered in their hands; they seemed to be in the grip of some
strong passion, which wreathed their faces into grim, bitter lines.

Near the T Down men--flanking them--were other men. Among them she saw
faces she knew--Colver, Str