Mollie came down from Virginia. She reached Carson by daybreak. Scot was still living, still holding his own, though the doctors held out no hope of recovery. At the end of forty-eight hours he was in a high fever, but his strength was unabated. The fever broke. He came out of it weak but with the faint, indomitable smile of the unconquered on his face. His hand pressed Mollie’s softly. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’ll make it sure,” he promised. The tears welled into her eyes. His courage took her by the throat and choked her, for the doctors still gave her no encouragement. “Yes,” she whispered, and tried to keep the sob out of her voice. “What’s a li’l’ thing like three bullets among one perfectly good man?” he asked whimsically. “You’re not to talk, the doctor says,” she reproved. “All right. Where’s Hugh?” “He left yesterday to ’tend to some business.” “What business?” A frown of anxiety wrinkled his pale forehead. “He didn’t say.” “Where did he go?” “I didn’t ask him. He said he’d be back to-day or to-morrow, one.” Scot thought this over, still with a troubled face. He guessed what this important business was that had called Hugh from his bedside at such a critical time. But he did not hint to Mollie his suspicion. “When he comes back will you let me know right away, Honey? Or if he wires?” “Yes. Now you must stop talking and take this powder.” The smile that was a messenger to carry her all his love rested in his eyes. “I’ll be good, Mollie.” He took the medicine and presently fell asleep. CHAPTER XXVI HUGH HITS THE TRAIL While Hugh was still at the bedside of his brother he began to make arrangements for the thing he meant to do. Already he knew that Sam Dutch had left town. Word had come to him that two horsemen in a desperate hurry had clattered down the street from Doc Benton’s stable. They had disappeared in the darkness. But the man who had seen them go had not recognized the companion of Dutch. Nor could he tell whether the riders had turned off Carson Street into King’s Cañon road, had swung to the right along the foothills road, or had held to a straight course toward Reno. The news of the outrage spread fast. Friends of the McClintocks poured into the Ormsby House by scores to see if there was anything they could do. Among them were the Governor, a Justice of the Supreme Court, half-a-dozen state senators and representatives, and the sheriff of the county. It was characteristic of Hugh that even in the anguish he felt at seeing his brother stricken from lusty health by the bullets of assassins his mind worked with orderly precision. When he thought of the murderers a cold, deadly anger possessed him, but if possible he meant his vengeance to come within the law. “There’s one thing you can do, Phil,” he said to the sheriff. “Swear me in as a special deputy. I’m goin’ out to get Dutch.” “To bring him back here, you mean?” asked the officer.