“First I knew Tait was in the wagon door with his gun and we were all shooting. But someone fired first and brought him out from the wagon. It came from the right. Who was it, Mac?” demanded Rogers. Cole and Silcott joined them. They had been examining the fallen men. “Both of them are dead,” said Cole. “I can’t hardly believe it. But it’s so. A bullet got Gilroy right through the heart.” Rowan looked up quickly. He was white to the lips. “Gilroy? Did we kill Gilroy?” He turned to Larry. “I thought you said he went home to-day.” “He telephoned his wife he would be home to-night. Must have changed his mind.” “It cost him his life, poor devil!” Rogers broke out. “I ain’t so sure it won’t cost us ours,” added Yerby quietly. “If I’d known Gilroy was here to-night, Sam Yerby wouldn’t have gone raiding.” “That’s right,” agreed Cole. “Tait is one proposition; Gilroy is another. This whole country is going to buzz now. He has hundreds of friends.” All of them recognized the truth of this. The death of Tait alone would have stirred no resentment. But Gilroy was an old-timer, a quiet, well-respected man who had many friends. He had been sheriff of the county some years before, and at the last election had been chosen county commissioner. “Who killed him?” asked Rogers again. “Who started this shooting? That’s what I want to know.” Rowan answered quietly: “The less we know about that the better, boys. We’re all tied up together in this. In the excitement some of us have gone too far. That can’t be helped now. We’ve got to see it out together—got to stand back of each other. Before the law we’re all guilty. The only thing to do is to let to-night’s work be a mystery that is never solved. We’ll fix up a story and all stand by it.” Yerby broke a long silence. “Well, boys, we better make our get-away. A whole passell of sheriffs will be combing these hills for us soon. Posses will be pouring in like buzzards to a water hole in the desert. I reckon we had better fix up our alibis and then burn the wind for home.” “Can’t start pushing on our reins any too quick to suit me,” Cole assented. “That’s the only thing to do,” agreed McCoy. “Sam, you and Brad had better get back to your homes, where you’ve been sleeping all night if any one asks you. Falkner, you go back with us to the ranch. We’ll fix up a story about how you joined us there and bunked with Jack and Larry.” “What about these?” Rogers indicated with his hand the sprawling bodies of the sheepmen. His voice was a whisper. “We can’t do anything for them,” answered Rowan. “We’ve got to think of ourselves. If we talk, if we make any mistakes, we’re going to pay the price of what we’ve done. We can’t explain we didn’t intend to kill any one. We’re all in this. The only thing to do is to stand together and keep our mouths shut.”