And on that chance the stranger waited to ask one question, namely: “What is the secret of Sky Line? Where is the other end of the passage?” For all the hours that Price Selwood had lain unconscious fourteen men under Bossick had camped in a glade under the flaring skirts of Mystery’s western end, ready to answer Fair’s summons. Diamond waited in Selwood’s stable, saddled and fit, and everything waited on the intrepid sheriff himself who had done such valiant work “to get the goods” on Sky Line. A late round moon was rising above the distant rimrock of Rainbow Cliff, a great golden disc that promised full light, and all the little winds, born in the cañons of the Deep Heart hills, frolicked like elves among the trees. Fair’s thoughts were of the girl on Nameless—of her long blue eyes with their steady light, of her smiling lips and the golden crown of her braided hair. He drifted away, as lovers have done since time was, and it was the low-toned voice of the doctor which recalled him. “Mr. Smith,” it said without a change of inflection, “come in carefully.” He rose and, tossing away his cigarette, stepped softly across the sill. In the faint light of the oil lamp on a stand Sheriff Selwood looked up into the face of his wife, bending above him. “Sally,” he said weakly. Then he turned his head and looked slowly around at the others. “Hello, Doc,” he whispered, then—“they didn’t get me—after all! Smith—Smith——” a sudden light leaped into the dazed eyes, “I saw—them drive Bossick’s—Bossick’s steers into the face of—Rainbow Cliff a mile west—of Sky Line——” “That’s plenty,” said Fair quickly, “you mustn’t talk, Selwood—mind the doctor—I’m leaving now.” And with a gentle touch on the sick man’s shoulder he was gone. He ran to the stable and got Diamond. Five of Selwood’s riders were throwing saddles on horses. In less time than seemed possible the six men were riding for the rendezvous on Nameless. All along the flowing river there was the seeming of portent, a strange sense of impending tragedy, for many riders were abroad in the quiet night. One of these was Bud Allison, his young face set and awful, his Pappy’s old rifle grasped in a steady hand, pushing Big Dan to an unaccustomed limit of speed toward Sheriff Selwood’s ranch. The boy was praying that he might find Brand there—and the old gun was destined for action. But within the narrow margin of a mile Fair was passing toward the north as he went south—and thus Bud missed him with the news of Nance’s disappearance. Had they met, the happenings of that night might have had a different ending, for Fair would have stormed the citadel of Sky Line like a fury, forgetting all things in his fear for the woman he loved—the ends of justice which he sought to serve, Bossick’s steers and everything else. And in the shadow of Rainbow Cliff Rod Stone and Minnie Pine waited patiently for the ranch to settle down that they might slip away.