The noise of the cattle became more distinct. They must be about half a mile to the left, where the level ground allowed cattle to be loaded into the cars. “We’ve got to make it--rustlers or no rustlers!” Roy panted. “If they’re guarding the cars we’ll take a chance and run through ’em! If I get hit, you keep on. Remember that!” The shouts of the men driving the cows toward the railroad could now be heard, and Roy and Teddy dug heels into their ponies’ sides. Exhausted as the horses were from their long, hard ride, still they responded bravely, and digging their forefeet into the hill strove to carry their masters to the top. “If we can reach the cars without being seen--” Roy gasped. The sentence was left unfinished, for he realized that Teddy knew what was in his mind. They had one chance to save their cattle, and a slim chance it was. The empties, they knew, stood on a steep grade. It was this incline which the rustlers counted on as a means of getting the cars started and carrying the cows to a place where they could be unloaded without fear of interruption. This place was at the end of the line. Thirty-three cars, loaded with heavy steers, would easily coast eight miles, given a good start. If they could reach the train before the rustlers discovered them and release the brakes, the train would start, and then nothing could stop it. Peterson’s work would go for naught. The cattle would have to be left where they were, for they could never be driven far enough to be hidden from the punchers of the X Bar X. These thoughts were whirling through the minds of Teddy and Roy as they spurred their horses up the steep hill. Ahead of them they saw a long line of mounds, looking like a caravan of camels in the moonlight. As they came nearer the contours took on a more angular form. “The cars! We’ve won, Teddy! We’ve won! Go on--go on! This is the last lap, Teddy boy!” Panting fiercely, the boys dashed toward the line of empties, standing motionless on the tracks at the top of the hill. At the same minute they heard a shot and a bullet whined by overhead. “They’ve seen us!” Roy gasped. “Ride, Teddy, ride!” Far to the left they could see a huge herd of cattle--their cattle. Men were dashing frantically about, spectres in the night. Streaks of fire flashed into the blackness and winked out, and the solos of the bullets merged into a chorus. The bright moonlight threw the two riders into silhouette, a perfect mark for the rustlers. Suddenly Star faltered, stumbled, went on more slowly. “He’s hit!” Roy groaned. “Star, don’t give up! Stick to it, boy! Stick to it!” The pony whinnied with pain, but fought his way doggedly up the hill. A little more! Just another hundred yards! “They’ve left the cattle! They’re after us!” Teddy shouted. “Ride low!” In front of them loomed the cars. Roy heard the wood splinter as the bullets pinged into them. Up--up! “Hop it, Roy! Hit the ground! Let the ponies go; they’ll find their way back!”