"Maybe. Can't help that. But I'm not so sure, Nort--you know they had to get those Chinks to a place of safety. Couldn't let them wander around loose. And this was the only place they could go to. They had no choice. And whether they figured we'd follow or not, they had to dig in here." "They sure got away neat before," Nort said, as he thought of the escape. "And if they hadn't wrecked their auto we'd probably never have seen them again. Now we've got a chance." "Yes, and a little more than a chance. Wonder what's keeping the Kid. Told him to come right back." "And here he comes--runnin'!" exclaimed Nort suddenly, as a figure burst into sight. "Something must be the matter!" They spurred their horses toward the Kid, and met him half way. "What is it?" Hawkins asked sharply. "Billee Dobb!" Yellin' Kid panted. "He's--" It was an ominous pause. "Not so loud! Easy!" "It's Billee!" the Kid exclaimed in a lower voice. "They shot him!" "Shot him! Is he dead?" "Not yet. Looks pretty bad. Bleedin' hard. By golly, let's go after those yellow sneaks, an' get 'em!" "Shot Billee Dobb," Nort said slowly, as though he couldn't believe it. "Poor old Billee! Well--" he looked up sharply. "Let's go!" The boy's lips were closed grimly. In his eyes shone a wild light. Whatever quarter would have been extended to the smugglers before, they could expect none now. The chase had turned--had changed into a personal venture. They had been seeking the capture of the smugglers because it had been their duty. Now---- "Men," Hawkins spoke in a low voice, clipping his words, "let's get started. We got work to do!" There was not another word spoken. Belts were tightened, and guns loosened in their holsters. Dawn was just breaking. The three men closed in on the ranch house in silence. CHAPTER XXII FLYING BULLETS Finally Nort spoke. "What about Billee?" he asked. "Dick's taking care of him as best he can. Poor old geezer--" the Kid bit his lip sharply. "He told me--he was sorry it happened, 'cause now he'll miss the fun." "How did he look, Kid? I mean----" "Can't tell, Nort. He's hit pretty bad. Course we don't know for sure--he's pretty old, you know----" "But tough as a board," Hawkins broke in. "I know his kind. Don't worry boys. I'm sure he'll pull through O. K. Kid, is Bud coming with us?" "Said he'd be right here. Want to wait he comes, before going closer?" There was a halt in the determined march toward the ranch house. There seemed to be but little formal plan in the boys' attack; simply to "get those guys an' get 'em good," as the Kid expressed it. But now that the first shock of learning of Billee's wound had passed, all realized how hopeless it would be to simply go up and take Delton. Some sort of a scheme of attack was necessary if anything was to be accomplished. "Here's Bud now," Hawkins said as the boy rancher rode toward them. There was a sober look on his face.