before I finished with him!"

"I'll bet y'u would, Cap," returned the other, admiringly. "Think
we'd better deploy here and beat up the scenery a few as we go?"

There are times when the mind works like lightning, flashes its
messages on the wings of an electric current. For Bannister this
was one of them. The whole situation lighted for him plainly as
if it had been explained for an hour.

His cousin had been out with a band of his cut-throats on some
errand, and while returning to the fastnesses of the Shoshone
Mountains had stopped to noon at a cow spring three or four miles
from the Lazy D. Judd Morgan, whom he knew to be a lieutenant of
the notorious bandit, had ridden toward the ranch in the hope of
getting an opportunity to vent his anger against its mistress or
some of her men. While pursuing the renegade Bannister had
stumbled into a hornet's nest, and was in imminent danger of
being stung to death. Even now the last speaker was scrambling up
the bank toward him.

The sheepman had to choose between leaving his rifle and
immediate flight. The latter was such a forlorn hope that he gave
up Buck for the moment, and ran back to the place where his
repeating Winchester had fallen. Without stopping he scooped the
rifle up as he passed. In his day he had been a famous sprinter,
and he scudded now for dear life. It was no longer a question of
secrecy. The sound of men breaking their hurried way through the
heavy brush of the creek bank came crisply to him. A voice behind
shouted a warning, and from not a hundred yards in front of him