"This game's too certain--for me, I'm through!" He threw his weapons away, so that they went bounding and clattering to the foot of the slope. Then he again faced the fissure, shouting: "I know I've caved, an' you know I've caved. But what about them guys on the other side, there? They'll be blowin' me apart if I go to showin' myself." Sanderson called to Williams and the others, telling them the men were going to surrender, and warning them to look out for treachery. "If one of them tries any monkey-shines, nail him!" he ordered. "There's eleven of them that ain't been touched--an' some more that ain't as active as they might be. But they can bend a gun handy enough. Don't take any chances!" Sanderson ordered the man to step out. He did so, gingerly, as though he expected to be shot. When he was in plain view of Sanderson's men, Sanderson ordered him to descend the slope and stand beside a huge rock ledge. He watched while the man descended; then he called to the others: "Step up an' take your medicine! One at a time! Guns first. Williams!" he called. "You get their guns as fast as they come down. I'll see that none of them plug you while you're doin' it!" There was no hitch in the surrender; and no attempt to shoot Williams. One by one the men dropped their weapons down the slope. When all the men had reached the bottom of the defile Sanderson climbed down and asked the first man who had surrendered where they had left their horses. The animals were brought, and the men forced to mount them. Then, the Dale men riding ahead, Sanderson and the others behind, they began the return trip. When they reached the open country above the defile, Sanderson rode close to Williams. "There's enough of you to take care of this gang," he said, indicating the prisoners; "I'm goin' to hit the breeze to the Double A an' see what's happened there!" "Sure!" agreed Williams. "Beat it!" When Streak got the word he leaped forward at a pace that gave Williams an idea of how he had gained his name. He flashed by the head of the moving columns and vanished into the growing darkness, running with long, swift, sure leaps that took him over the ground like a feather before a hurricane. But fast as he went, he did not travel too rapidly for Sanderson. For in Sanderson's heart also lurked a premonition of evil. But he did not fear it; it grimmed his lips, it made his eyes blaze with a wanton, savage fire; it filled his heart with a bitter passion to slay the man who had stayed behind at the Double A ranchhouse. And he urged Streak to additional effort, heading him recklessly through sections of country where a stumble meant disaster, lifting him on the levels, and riding all the time with only one thought in mind--speed, speed, speed. CHAPTER XXXIII A MAN LEAVES OKAR