“Shall we go to the Lightnin’?” asked a cowboy. “No,” said Reber shortly, and headed for the Two Bar X. The men were tired, sleepy, hungry; they were willing to go anywhere to stop for a while. They did not go back to the road, but cut across the hills. Daylight came swiftly, and the sun was painting the tops of the hills when they struck the road about a mile below the Two Bar X. And here the road was a mass of cow tracks. Reber leaned forward in his saddle, pointing at them. “The trail of the rustlers,” he said. “They’re headin’ for the West Fork pass.” “Listen!” Nelson threw up his hand. From far up the road they could hear the rattle of rifle shots. “My ----!” exclaimed Reber. “The boys of the Two Bar X are tryin’ to stop ’em! Come on!” Some one lashed Buck Priest’s horse across the rump with a rope, and the animal almost unseated the suffering old man. He gritted his teeth and rode along with them. The men were riding with rifles in their hands now. About three hundred yards short of the Two Bar X, the road topped an elevation around the point of a hill and, as they swung around this point, Park Reber, riding at the head of his men, drew rein. The whole front end of the ranchhouse was enveloped in flames, and beyond the burning house the hills were full of cattle. They saw a man running away from the corrals. He mounted a horse and headed for the cattle. A rifle bullet struck the ground in front of Reber’s horse and buzzed angrily away. The riders separated like a covey of quail. Another bullet thudded against a horse, and its rider flung himself free as the horse reared up and fell backward. Cowboys were dismounting as swiftly as possible, letting their horses go; then they ran ahead, taking advantage of every bit of cover. Rifles began to crack as the Reber men searched the corrals and sheds with bullets. Mounted men began riding from behind the stable, heading toward the cattle. “Get yore horses!” yelled Reber. “They’re headin’ for the pass.” The men continued to shoot at the retreating cowboys. One of them pitched sidewise off his horse, and his horse came back toward the stable. Reber’s men mounted swiftly and swept down on the ranch. A man ran from the stable-door, trying to get around the corner, but a hail of bullets cut him down. He went flat on his side, rolled over and fired one shot in return. Park Reber jerked back in his saddle and slid to the ground. At that same moment one of the men yelled warningly. The outside roothouse door was flung open and out came Jack Silver, carrying June Meline across one arm. He staggered, flung up his right hand to shoot at them, but tripped over an old water-bucket and fell flat. Several cowboys threw themselves upon him before he could get up, and held him tightly. They yanked him to his feet, and others took charge of June. “Well, yuh got me, I guess,” panted Jack. “I guess we have!” snorted a cowboy. “Yo’re all through, you dirty half-breed.”