Brand Blotters

"I reckon something is keeping them," suggested Alan, after looking at his

watch for the fifth time in half an hour. "Don't you reckon we better go

up the trail a bit to meet them?"

"I reckon we better wait here, Alan. Bid three," returned Farnum evenly.

As he spoke, their scout came running in.

"They're here, boys!"

"Good enough! How many of them?"

"Four of 'em, looked like. They were winding down the trail, and I

couldn't make out how many."

"All right, boys. Steady, now, till they get down from their horses. Hal,

out with the light when I give the word."

It was a minute to shake nerves of steel. They could hear the sound of

voices, an echo of jubilant laughter, the sound of iron shoes striking

stones in the trail. Then some one shouted: "Oh, you, Buck!"

The program might have gone through as arranged, but for an unlooked-for

factor in the proceedings. Buck let out a shout of warning to his trapped

friends. Almost at the same instant the butt of Farnum's revolver smashed

down on his head; but the damage was already done.

Bellamy and his friends swarmed out like bees. The outlaws were waiting

irresolutely--some mounted, others beside their horses. Among them were

two pack horses.

"Hands up!" ordered the mine owner sharply.

The answer was a streak of fire from a rifle. Instantly there followed a

fusillade. Flash after flash lit up the darkness. Staccato oaths, cries, a

moan of pain, the trampling of frightened horses, filled the night with

confusion.

In spite of the shout of warning, the situation had come upon the bandits

as a complete surprise. How many were against them, whether or not they

were betrayed, the certainty that the law had at last taken them at a

disadvantage--these things worked with the darkness for the posse. A man

flung himself on his pony, lay low on its back, and galloped wildly into

the night. A second wheeled and followed at his heels. Hank Irwin was

down, with a bullet from a carbine through his jaw and the back of his

head. A wild shot had brought down another. Of the outlaws only MacQueen,

standing behind his horse as he fired, remained on the field uninjured.

The cattlemen had scattered as the firing began, and had availed

themselves of such cover as was to be had. Now they concentrated their

fire on the leader of the outlaws. His horse staggered and went down,

badly torn by a rifle bullet. A moment later the special thirty-two

carbine he carried was knocked from his hands by another shot.