“Plenty, Mr. Manley. I filled her up just before I started.” “Then the rustlers can lead us a merry chase. Now I have an idea that they may have left one man to drive the flivver, so as to fool us into following the tracks, while the other two--and I’ll bet they’re the two we want to get--took a side path. Yep, boys, we ought to separate. We can cover more ground then.” “Say when, boss,” Nick Looker exclaimed. “We’ll rake this range with a fine comb!” “Well, let’s get started then! Every man for himself! Spread out! If you get into trouble, fire three shots. But don’t get too far apart, so the fellow next to you couldn’t hear them. I’ll be the center man, and you can deploy on me. Open up now, boys, an’ let’s go!” With a yell to the horses, the chase started anew. Teddy and Roy took the left and right of Mr. Manley, each riding out straight for a quarter of a mile, and then turning. The others rode the same distance from the man nearest to him, until there was a long line streaked across the prairie. The ground was fairly level here, and there were few trees, the growth being mostly sage bush. More clouds had obscured the face of the moon, making the night dark. Roy tried to keep an even interval from his father and the man on his right, but he found that this was impossible, so he rode forward hoping he might catch a glimpse of the rustlers. A slight grade rose ahead of him, and he urged his mount up it. A little to his left he saw a small clump of trees. Deciding to ride close to these, Roy pulled his horse over. As he did so, he uttered an exclamation. Out of the group of trees had ridden a man on horseback. He turned, and saw Roy coming toward him. Wheeling his bronco about, he re-entered the shadow of the grove. Roy leaped his steed forward to the edge of the wooded section. He heard the sound of a creaking saddle and turned swiftly. His hand flashed down to his gun. But he was too late. Not two feet from his head was the blue barrel of a revolver, held in a steady grasp. “Welcome, stranger!” a sardonic voice exclaimed. At that moment the moon slid from behind a cloud, lighting the scene with its pale glow. And, like some vision of the night, motionless and tense, a horseman sat facing Roy. The man’s head was turned slightly to the right, and on the left cheek Roy saw a deep scar. CHAPTER XIX ESCAPE It was not fright that held Roy motionless, but a realization of the hopelessness of resistance. A slight tightening of the crooked finger that touched the trigger would send a ball of lead tearing through his body, and at the short range there could be but one result. It seemed best to Roy that he bide his time. “Nice of you to call on me like this,” Gilly Froud went on, in that sinister, mocking tone. “An’ I begs you’ll excuse the looks of the place. We ain’t quite ready to receive visitors, yet.” “What did you do with our horses and with Bug Eye’s flivver?” Roy asked, looking straight at the man.