Even if he were not superstitious the appearance of Hall McIvor would send the chill of fear over Isham; for the blue roan which he rode had lured Red to his death, and then horse and man had lured Elmo. It was like the shadow of a raven, the heavy winging of Death itself, to see that drooping roan at the horse-rack, and as McIvor watched the street he was conscious of tense faces that seemed to divine his mission. Perhaps it was his clothes, torn by riding through the brush, or the stern set look in his eyes; but he could tell by their looks that these strangers knew all about him, although now they studiously ignored him. Even the Texans kept away from him, retreating to the saloon across the street; but he knew what was in their hearts. There was a thousand-dollar reward on his head. Not for nothing had Burge Masters' friend slapped the table insultingly and accused him of being a horse-thief; they were out for the reward and if he refused to fight there were other ways of embroiling him. Hall sensed mischief in the air and yet he was puzzled--they seemed to be prepared for his coming. Where before there had been one Texan now there were eight or ten, all armed and watching him closely; and as he mounted his tired horse and rode him down to the corral he saw two of them swing up and start after him. Then he knew it--he had ridden into a trap. Isham had assembled his gunmen and made all things ready, and then let his presence be known; and McIvor, following blindly, had ridden into an ambush, right there in that peaceful, farming town. If he fled, they would follow him; and if he stayed--well, then it would be ten to one. He rode down to the feed corral and looked it over closely, then summoned the proprietor from his office. "Put this horse in a box stall," he directed, "and don't let any person go near him. I want to leave him saddled--and I'll hold you personally responsible if he isn't right here when I want him." "All right, pardner," answered the livery-stable keeper, "I suppose the horse is yours?" "Yes, and here's the bill of sale." Hall took out the bill of sale which he had carefully preserved and showed it to the worldly-wise proprietor, who nodded and passed it back. "Kee-reck," he remarked. "'Be sure you're right,' sez I, 'and then go ahead.' Your horse will be here when you call for him."