Without a sound to warn them a rider appeared close to the front wheel of the buckboard. Waco shrank down in sodden terror. It was the Starr foreman, High-Chin Bob. Waco saw Pat's hand flash to his side, then fumble on the seat. "I'm payin' the Kid's debt," said High Chin, and, laughing, he threw shot after shot into the defenseless body of his old enemy. Waco saw Pat slump forward, catch himself, and finally topple from the seat. As the reins slipped from his fingers the ponies lunged up the arroyo. Waco crouched, clutching the foot-rail. A bullet hummed over his head. Gaining the level, the ponies broke into a wild run. The red wind whined as it drove across the mesa. The buckboard lurched sickeningly. A scream of terror wailed down the wind as the buckboard struck a telegraph pole. A blind shock--and for Waco the droning of the wind had ceased. Dragging the broken traces, the ponies circled the mesa and set off at a gallop toward home. At the side of the road lay the splintered buckboard, wheels up. And Waco, hovering on the edge of the black abyss, dreamed strange dreams. * * * * * Waring, riding in with the crew, found the ranch-house deserted and the pinto ponies dragging the shreds of a broken harness, grazing along the fence. Waring sent a man to catch up the team. Ramon cooked supper. The men ate in silence. After supper Waring changed his clothes, saddled Dex, and packed some food in the saddle-pockets. "I am going out to look for Pat," he told one of his men. "If Waco shows up, keep him here till I get back. Those horses didn't get away from Pat. Here's a signed check. Get what you need and keep on with the work. You're foreman till I get back." "If there's anything doing--" began the cowboy. "I don't know. Some one rode in here to-day. It was along about noon that Pat and Waco left. The bread was baked. I'd say they drove to town for grub; only Pat took his gun--without the holster. It looks bad to me. If anything happens to me, just send for Lorry Adams at the Ranger Station." Waring rode out, looking for tracks. His men watched him until he had disappeared behind a rise. Bender, the new foreman, turned to his fellows. "I'd hate to be the man that the boss is lookin' for," he said, shaking his head. "Why, he's lookin' for Pat, ain't he?" queried one of the men. "That ain't what I mean," said the foreman. * * * * *