As far as he knew there had been no misbranding of cattle. Therefore he was of the opinion that the rustlers were moving a bunch of his stock toward the West Fork pass. If Park Reber were stealing cattle, that was the pass he would take them through to Clear Valley. There was just enough moonlight to enable them to see to travel by. Buck hoped to find the rustler’s camp, but after traveling far along the Porcupine he decided to head toward the Half-Wheel, which was almost due west of where they were now. He reasoned that if the rustlers knew that O’Steen had escaped wounded they would possibly drop the herd and head for the Half-Wheel. In the meantime Park Reber had gathered a dozen riders and was also heading down the valley. Nelson had told him what the two masked men had said about the road’s being dangerous, and Reber was not the man not to heed a warning. He left the road a short distance out of Tomahawk and took to the open hills where there would be no danger of an ambush. “We’ll head straight toward Jack Silver’s place,” he told his men. “Buck Priest is in with Silver on this deal, that’s a cinch, so there’s no use going to his place.” “And if it’s a scheme to run a lot of cattle out of the valley they’ll use the Trapper Creek pass,” declared Nelson. “I’d like to notch my sight on the jasper that killed old Sam Herd.” “There’ll be plenty of chances before this time tomorrow night,” said Reber. “I’ll clean this valley of every rustler or quit the cow business myself.” The men knew the hills well, and they were able to make good time. Reber was suffering considerably with his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and led the way. There were no lights showing at the Half-Wheel when Buck Priest led his men down to the road past the ranch. For quite a while they sat on their horses at a little distance from the ranchhouse, debating just what to do. “We’ll go on,” decided Buck Priest. “Before daylight we can be in the West Fork pass, and if they run those cows into that pass we’ll show the dirty thieves a merry time.” “Jist lemme get a sight of the fellers that leaded up O’Steen,” said Rowdy. “I’m shore honin’ for a chance at ’em.” “Daylight will tell the tale,” said Priest. “They’ll try and run ’em through early in the mornin’. I wouldn’t be surprized to find the hills around the Two Bar X full of my cows.” They were about two miles south of the Half-Wheel, traveling along the road through a narrow defile in the heavy brush, when a rifle spat fire almost in front of them. It was so sudden and unexpected that the four riders whirled in a mass, trying to control their horses. From several places in the brush came orange-colored flashes, followed by the angry spat of rifle shots. Buck Priest’s horse went down in a heap, pinning Buck to the ground.