Sterry did not dismount, but, sitting in the saddle, looked on the sorrowful sight as revealed by the glow of the burning building. He was saddened that such things should be. Little time, however, was given him for gloomy reverie, when Queenie sniffed the air and turned her head a little to one side. Looking in that direction, the rider saw the figure of a horseman assume shape in the glow as his animal advanced at a slow step. He must have detected Sterry before the latter saw him, and was studying him with close attention, his rifle supported across his saddle in front, ready for instant use. Reading his suspicion, the young man called out: "Come on, partner! You and I cannot be enemies at such a time as this." The salutation reassured the other, who increased his pace. Before he reached Sterry the latter half-regretted his action, for he recognized the man as Duke Vesey, one of the most notorious of rustlers and a bitter personal enemy. But a certain chivalry rules among such people, and after the greeting of Sterry to Vesey there was little danger of the latter taking unfair advantage of it. "This is bad business," remarked the younger, pointing to the figure on the ground. A hard look crossed the face of the rustler and his thin lips compressed as he shook his head. "Yes, that's what's left of Jack Perkins; he was my pard." "How did it happen?" "How did it happen! A pretty question for you to ask. He was killed by the stockmen less than an hour ago." "But they didn't ride hither and shoot him down, I am sure." "I don't know what you can be sure of," said Vesey, ominously. "Jack and I were riding along peaceable like, when we heard horsemen behind us. We didn't pay any attention to them till we got home and Jack slipped off his horse. I concluded to stay in the saddle until the fellows came up and I had a talk with them. They were Capt. Asbury and his stockmen, and the first thing they called out was an order for us to throw up our hands. "Well," continued Vesey, grimly, "we aren't in that kind of business, and the next thing the guns were popping all around us. Jack had nerve. I wish the poor fellow had stayed in the saddle; but his horse scooted off, and he stood right there where he fell, without a leaf to shelter him, and pumped the lead into those stockmen, who were mean enough to shoot the brave fellow in his tracks without giving him a chance for life." "You told me they ordered him to surrender before the firing began." "So they did, that they might shoot him down the easier. I had a hot chase with them, and it was a pretty close call for me; but they didn't keep up the hunt for long. You would think," added Vesey, bitterly, "that they would have been satisfied with dropping poor Jack, without burning down our home; but that is the style of the stockmen."