"Miss Withersteen, I was alone all night with the herd. At
daylight this mornin' the rustlers rode down. They began to shoot
at me on sight. They chased me hard an' far, burnin' powder all
the time, but I got away."

"Jud, they meant to kill you," declared Venters.

"Now I wonder," returned Judkins. "They wanted me bad. An' it
ain't regular for rustlers to waste time chasin' one rider."

"Thank heaven you got away," said Jane. "But my riders--where are
they?"

"I don't know. The night-riders weren't there last night when I
rode down, en' this mornin' I met no day-riders."

"Judkins! Bern, they've been set upon--killed by Oldring's men!"

"I don't think so," replied Venters, decidedly. "Jane, your
riders haven't gone out in the sage."

"Bern, what do you mean?" Jane Withersteen turned deathly pale.

"You remember what I said about the unseen hand?"

"Oh!...Impossible!"

"I hope so. But I fear--" Venters finished, with a shake of his
head.