Hall waited, still in the shadows, for the light from the store door might reveal his presence to his enemies; and as he watched the Rock House he saw a lantern leave the house and go bobbing out to the barn. There was a hair-trigger atmosphere about the whole raid which set his jangled nerves on edge; for he knew that the Scarboroughs kept close watch over the store, even dictating who should come there for supplies. They would be riding over soon to see who had been there, if they were not already skulking near; and the news of his presence would be the signal for the Randolphs to take up the trail again. For years, back in Kentucky, they had dogged his tracks, trying to catch him for a moment off his guard; and he, throwing great circles, had often swung in behind them, so that they in turn were pursued. More than once he had ambushed them, and once he had shot Cal; but they had always crept away leaving the battle undecided, for the feud had taught the value of stealth. The men who fought in the open had long before been killed--it was Indian warfare now. Bill and Winchester came out, after taking a last drink, and rode off in silence down the road. The night was still, so that the sounds traveled far, and the circumstances of their home-coming were depressing. Except for a few times when, at the risk of their lives, they had crept in to leave their mother some fresh beef, they had never been near the house since that fatal day when Sharps and Old Henry had been killed. Old Susie had detected movements on the top of the hill where the Scarboroughs had once laid in wait, and Winchester and Bill had evidence of their own to show that the house was watched. It was the old system of the Scarboroughs, always to lie in wait and shoot down their enemies from the brush. The hounds came rushing out at them, changing their baying to joyous yelps as they recognized their long-lost masters; and old Susie, for once, forgot her Indian stoicism and wept as she clung to Bill. He was her favorite boy, the baby she had carried when she had traveled overland in search of her husband; and when they had put down her supplies and were preparing to go she still clung desperately to Bill. "You go on," he said to Winchester, "I'll stay with Maw a while. But I'll ketch you--get the boys and start ahead." "Well, all right," grumbled Winchester, "but you be careful, kid; them Scarboroughs are on the prod."