“Well, we didn’t know what your trail was goin’ to bring us to,” said Swingley, addressing Alma. “We’ve followed it since you left your ranch, but it’s been worth the trip for us. We didn’t have any idea of findin’ our fellow invader, Milt Bertram, here. I s’pose Uncle Billy has been holdin’ you here against your will, ain’t he?” asked the leader sneeringly. “I didn’t write out my resignation when I quit your outfit at the Powderhorn Crossing,” said Bertram, sitting down on the porch and lighting a cigarette, “but you knew I’d resigned.” “You hadn’t ought to have done it, boy,” said Swingley. “You ought to have stayed with us. It didn’t seem to pay you to quit us, for it looks as if you’d been havin’ a struggle of it.” “He was shot in the shoulder when he was brought here,” observed Uncle Billy. “A few more days will find him as good as new.” Swingley’s face showed genuine astonishment. “Somebody got ahead of Milt Bertram on the draw! Well I’ll be dashed!” he exclaimed. “I wouldn’t have believed anybody could have done that, unless it might be Tom Hoog, here.” “Or mebbe yourself,” put in Hoog. “Oh, well, count us as equals,” went on Swingley. “But somebody must have got Milt from ambush.” “Well, you know a lot about ambushes,” observed Bertram calmly. “Especially about throwing blazing straw from iron ambushes, I might say.” Bertram was not certain that it had been Swingley who had been behind the go-devil, who had tossed out the burning straw which had set fire to the cabin. His chance shot told, for Swingley’s brows darkened. “That’s no kind of talk from you, Bertram,” he said. “Remember we count you one of us. If you don’t come with us, some one of these rustlers will shoot you before you get your horse’s nose turned out of this country.” “You know when and where I quit, and add to that knowledge by telling you why I quit,” pursued the Texan. “It was because I didn’t intend to be a party to a deliberate murder, such as you and those with you committed, there at the Powderhorn Crossing.” Swingley pursed, and Hoog made a motion to draw, but the leader of the invaders held up a warning hand. “No shootin’ to-day, Tom,” he said. “This young cub is goin’ to listen to reason. I know what’s the matter with him. He’s fell in with Nick Caldwell’s stepdaughter here, and he wants to throw in with the rustler faction, thinkin’ that that’ll help him along with his love affair. But listen here, young lady, and you, Uncle Billy, who have been harborin’ this youngster. It was Milt Bertram who made it possible for us to burn out Nick Caldwell at the Powderhorn ranch. If it hadn’t been for Milt, here, we wouldn’t have had the go-devil made, the thing that made it possible for us to get right up to the cabin. I believe Nick would have stood us off all day if it hadn’t been for that thing. Do you deny that you made a go-devil for us, Milt?” Bertram felt that the girl’s questioning eyes were turned upon him, but he made no sign.