With the horse located, VB stumbled across the short intervening space, one hand to his breast doing the double duty of attempting to still the searing of that wound and hold fast to the money belt. He flung himself at the door of the low little stable, jerked the fastening apart, and, backing in, saw men run from the house, heard them curse sharply, and saw them turn and look, each with his shooting hand raised. VB drew the door shut after him, trembling, thinking swiftly. The Captain nosed him and nickered relief, stepping about in his agitation as though he knew the desperate nature of the corner into which they had been driven. "We've got to get out, boy," VB cried, running his numb hands over the animal's face in caress. "We're up against it, but there's a way out!" It was good to be back. It was good to feel that thick, firm neck again, to have the warm breath of the vital beast on his cheek, to sense his dominating presence--for it did dominate, even in that strained circumstance, and in the stress VB found half hysterical joy and voiced it: "You didn't quit, Captain!" he cried as he felt the cinch hastily. "You didn't quit. They--that woman! She brought you here!" He flung his arms about the stallion's head in a quick, nervous embrace at the cost of a mighty cutting pain across his chest. Then the cautious voice of Rhues, outside and close up to the door, talking lowly and swiftly: "Julio, saddle th' buckskin! Quick! I'll hold him here till we're ready! Then I'll shoot th' ---- down in his tracks! We got to ride, anyhow--nothin' 'll make no difference now!" Raising his voice, Rhues taunted: "Pray, you ----! Yer goin' to cash!" VB pressed his face to a crack and saw Rhues in the moonlight, close up to the door. He also saw another man, Julio, leading a horse from the corral on the run. Two other animals, saddled, stood near. He was cornered, helpless, in their hands--hard hands, that knew no mercy. But he did not give up. His mind worked nimbly, skipping from possibility to possibility, looking, searching for a way out. He reeled to the black horse and felt the animal's breath against the back of his neck. "We're up against it, boy," he whispered. And the voice of Rhues again: "They'll find him to-morrow--with th' belt!" He broke off suddenly, as though the words had set in his mind a new idea. VB did not hear; would not have heeded had his senses registered the words, because an odd apathy had come over him, dulling the pain of his wound, deadening the realization of his danger. He sighed deeply and shook himself and tried to rally, but though a part of him insisted that he gather his faculties and force them to alertness, another tired, lethargic self overbore the warning. Half consciously he pulled the stirrup toward him, put up his foot with an unreal effort, and laboriously drew himself to the saddle. There, he leaned forward on his arms, which were crossed on the Captain's neck, oblivious to all that transpired.