The floor resembled a battlefield. Wallie lay where he had fallen, still unconscious. A pool of red surrounded Sawtell's lifeless body. Lonergan rolled upon the floor, clutching his stomach and moaning hideously. The lawyer was dying, that was obvious, but dying in the most horrible and painful way a man can die by bullets. Lombard sat in a chair, his right arm hanging limp and dripping red. His face was drawn with pain, but he was silent. Vince alone seemed to have escaped lightly. He had a handkerchief, a dirty blue one, wrapped about one hand, but this didn't prevent his holding both hands above his shoulders. The masked man struggled to his feet and almost staggered his way to the washstand. He somehow managed to splash water from a pitcher to the basin, then scooped handfuls of it to his face. "Yuh all right?" Bryant Cavendish demanded. "I--I'm all right. I don't know just why--I--I thought--" "Save yer breath till yuh got enough of it tuh talk with. I c'n see good enough tuh keep these skunks covered. Yuh shot Vince's gun outen his hand. I thought fer sure you was a goner." The Lone Ranger heard a soft moan and turned to see Wallie recovering from the blow he sustained when his head struck the floor. Still unsteady on his feet, the masked man carried water in the cup and threw it on the other's face, then he joined Bryant Cavendish after regaining his guns. He sat on the floor and reloaded. For the first time he was aware of the freshly opened shoulder wound. The blood was soaking through his shirt. His chest, too, bothered him, but there were other things of far greater importance than his personal condition. Wallie was sitting up with a dazed look in his face. "You," barked Bryant, "git over there an' stand close tuh Vince." Wallie obeyed slowly. Meanwhile Lonergan had ceased his cries. The Lone Ranger knew by looking at him that the man was dead. Then he heard Bryant scolding. "I had two guns," the old man complained. "I'd o' wiped the lot o' them out, if you hadn't messed intuh things so's I couldn't shoot without prob'ly hittin' you!" "That's just it, Bryant. I didn't want them all killed. We want them alive to talk! There are a lot of other men on this ranch and everyone has been working with these." "Where they at now?" "Outside the house, figuring that you and I are dead." "Skunks," growled Bryant. Wallie appeared to have regained his composure. "What," he asked, "are your plans now?" "Shut up an' you'll find out," snapped Bryant. "This masked man told me about you, yuh dirty double-dyed rat, but I wouldn't believe him! He told me that he'd said jest enough tuh you so you'd figger the two of us had tuh be wiped out. Then he dragged me outen my bed an' packed me in this yere corner of the room an' waited till yuh showed yer hand. By God, I never got talked to in my hull damned life like I been talked to by this critter. Now he's showed you up fer what yuh are I reckon I'm due tuh do some talkin'!"