Buck Priest nodded shortly and knelt beside O’Steen, who was trying to talk. Rowdy ran through the house and came back with a dipper of water, which he held to O’Steen’s lips. Ken Mader and Dick Leeson, the two other cowboys, came from the bunk-house and joined them. “Can yuh talk, Harry?” asked Buck anxiously. “Who shot yuh?” O’Steen struggled painfully, trying to say something. It came in a jerky sentence-- “Rustlers--got--me--Porcupine--Creek--” That was all. He closed his eyes, twitched slightly. Buck got to his feet, his old face twisted. “Uh-huh,” he said softly. “Rustlers got him on Porcupine Creek, boys. Help me carry him in the house. That’s more of Park Reber’s work.” They placed the body of O’Steen on a cot and covered it up with a bright-colored blanket. “Saddle up,” ordered Priest. “Take yore rifles along. We’re goin’ to Tomahawk and talk to Park Reber with the only language he understands. He’s goin’ to pay for killin’ O’Steen.” “That’s the talk,” said Rowdy. “We’ll wipe his town off the map.” “Four men may not be able to do that, Rowdy,” said Buck Priest wearily, “but we’ll do what we can.” Ten minutes later the four men galloped from the S Bar P, heading for Tomahawk town. The sun was almost down, and they wanted to get there before dark. About two miles from the ranch the road intersected with the main road, and as the four riders swept around the point of a hill they saw a team and light wagon coming from the south. They were close enough to see that the driver was Nelson, one of Reber’s men. They drew rein and waited for the wagon to reach them. Priest swung his horse across the road ahead of the team, forcing them to stop. “Hyah, Nelson,” said Priest coldly. “Howdy, gentlemen,” nodded Nelson. “I’m sure glad to see somebody. I stopped at the Half-Wheel, but there wasn’t nobody at home. Me and Sam Herd was takin’ that girl to the Two Bar X and we got held up. Sam tried to draw a gun, and they killed him. And they put the girl on a horse and took her away. Sam’s in the back of the wagon.” Rowdy spurred his horse around the wagon and looked in. “He’s here all right, Buck,” he said. “Where’d this all happen?” “Near the mouth of Trapper. Down in them willers, jist before yuh reach the ford. Two men, Priest. They had sacks over their heads.” Priest backed his horse off the road and motioned for Nelson to drive on. “Ain’t we goin’?” asked Rowdy. Buck Priest watched the wagon disappear up the road. “I don’t know what to make of it,” he said. “Sam Herd was one of Park Reber’s trusted men. And they stole that girl, eh? That’s funny. We’re goin’ back home, boys. No use goin’ off half-cocked, I reckon. We’ll pack up some grub and blankets and swing in on the Porcupine. It must have been kinda late when O’Steen was shot, and the rustlers can’t move cattle much after dark.” They turned and rode back to the ranch. * * * * *