Suddenly again sounded the roar of the galloping horses. "Well, so-long, boys!" yelled Chuck, his voice barely audible. "So-long." The chorused response was cut short by the spitting of weapons. Chuck faced to the left, Welsh to the right. Both pumped two guns as fast as they could. Presently Chuck dropped one and leaned against the rock, his face distorted, but the other gun going. Jimmie felt a stab of fire, and found his weight all resting on one foot. Dropping their pistols, they drew others from holsters and fought on. A bullet furrowed Chuck's scalp, and the blood blinded him so that he could not shoot. He stepped out from behind the rock, "fanning" one gun and clearing his eyes with the other hand. Three bullets hit him at once, and he dropped dead, firing three shots before he reached the ground. He had scarcely fallen when Welsh's other leg and both arms were broken, and he tumbled in a heap just as the last of the charging cowboys swept past. When they had gone there was a moment's silence. Then: "Hello, anybody!" called Speaker. There was a pause. "Hello!" came a muffled voice. "Come an' git me. I cain't fight no more." And with a great shout the owner of the Circle Arrow outfit ran to where Jimmie Welsh, the indomitable, lay helpless, disabled by six bullets, but still full of fight. "Stick me up on that wall, Billy," he said faintly, "an' put a gun in each hand. I can't shoot 'em, but them punchers'll think I can and finish me." "You go to Hell!" remarked Speaker joyfully. "Don't call yore ranch names," admonished Jimmie with a grin, and fainted. CHAPTER XIX AN INDIAN COULEE By four o'clock in the morning the fifteen hundred head of cattle had crossed the ford of the Big Horn and were bedded down on the other side. When this hazardous business had been completed, Bud Larkin ordered the sheep brought up and kept on the eastern bank among the cool grass of the bottoms. The captive rustlers, under guard, were being held until daylight, when, it had been decided, they would be taken to the almost deserted Bar T ranch, and kept there until further action could be determined on in regard to them. When dawn finally came Bud looked at the stolid faces of the men, and recognized most of them as having belonged to the party that had so nearly ended his earthly career. He called them by their names, and some of them grinned a recognition. "Hardly expected to meet yuh again," said one amiably. "Thought it might be t'other side of Jordan, but not this side of the Big Horn." "That's one advantage of raising sheep," retorted Bud. "Mine are so well trained they stampede in time to save my life. You fellows ought to have joined me in the business then." "Wisht we had," remarked another gloomily. "'Tain't so hard on the neck in the end." Bud wondered at the hardihood of a man who, facing sure death, could still joke grimly about it.