ed by the soft drumming of the
hoofs, rose with bristling fur and howled; but no cow-boy heard their
passage, or saw them wind in and out through devious hollows when daylight
came. Still, here and there an anxious woman stood, with hazy eyes, in the
door of a lonely shanty, wondering whether the man she had sent out to
strike for the home he had built her would ever ride back again. For they,
too, had their part in the struggle, and it was perhaps the hardest one.

It was late at night when they rode into the wooden town. Here and there a
window was flung open; but the night was thick and dark, and there was
little to see but the dust that whirled about the dimly flitting forms.
That, however, was nothing unusual, for of late squadrons of stockriders
and droves of weary cattle had passed into the town; and a long row of
shadowy frame houses had been left behind before the fears of any citizen
were aroused. It was, perhaps, their silent haste that betrayed the
horsemen, for they rode in ordered ranks without a word, as men who have
grim business in hand, until a hoarse shout went up. Then a pistol flashed
in the darkness in front of them, doors were flung open, lights began to
blink, and a half-seen horseman came on at a gallop down the shadowy
street. He pulled his horse up within a pistol-shot from the homesteaders,
and sat still in his saddle staring at them.

"You'll have to get down, boys, or tell me what you want," he said. "You
can't ride through here at night without a permit."

There was a little ironical laughter, and somebody asked, "Who's going to
stop us?"

"The Sheriff's guard," said the horseman. "Stop right where you are until
I bring them."

"Keep clear," said Grant sternly, "or we'll ride over you. Forward,
boys!"

There was a jingle of bridles, and the other man wheeled his horse as the
heels went home. Quick as he was, the foremost riders were almost upon
him, and as he went down the street at a gallop the wooden houses flung
back a roar of hoofs. Every door was open now and the citizens peering
out. Lights flashed in the windows, and somebody cried, "The rustler boys
are coming!"

Other voices took up the cry; hoots of derision mingled with shouts of
greeting, but still, without an answer, the men from the prairie rode on,
Grant peering into the darkness as he swung in his saddle at the head of
them. He saw one or two mounted men wheel their horses, and more on foot
spring clear of the hoofs