Everybody was in a sudden hurry to be gone. They tramped back to the pine grove, and hurriedly mounted, eager to put as many miles as possible between them and what was lying at the foot of Bald Knob. A light snow was already falling. They welcomed it for the protection it offered. “We’ve bumped into good luck to start with,” said Larry to Cole. “The snow will blot out our tracks. They can’t trail us now.” Cole nodded. “Yep. That’s so.” But the thing that had been done chilled their spirits, and the dread as to what was to come of it rested like a weight upon their hearts. Mile after mile they rode, swiftly and silently. More than once Larry glanced over his shoulder with a shudder. He could see the snow sifting into the sightless eyes that stared up at the breaking dawn. Always he had laughed at the superstitions which rode ignorant people, but now he was careful not to bring up the rear of the little procession. Once an elk crashed out of some brush fifty feet from them. The sudden clamour shook their nerves with dread. Falkner laughed, but there was only bravado in his voice. “I could ’a’ brought that elk down if it hadn’t been the closed season,” he said. The man riding next him did not speak aloud the thought that flashed through his mind—that it had been an open season on sheepmen an hour before. The party broke up at the Three Pines after a hurried agreement as to plans. They were all to meet at the round-up. None of them was to know anything about the raid until news of it came to the camp from outside. Yerby and Rogers rode into the hills, the rest down to the Circle Diamond. They covered the ground fast, so as to get into the house before any one was astir with the coming day. Already gray was sifting into the sky, a warning that the night was ending. Larry, riding beside McCoy, looked furtively at him and asked a question just as they came in sight of the ranch. “Who shot Gilroy, Mac?” Rowan looked at him with bleak, expressionless eyes. “We all did.” “Yes, but——” His whisper died away. “None of us know who fired the shot. It doesn’t matter. Never forget one thing, Larry. We’re all in the same boat. We sink or swim together.” “Sure. But whoever it was——” “We don’t know who it was,” McCoy lied. “We’re not going to try to find out. Forget that, Larry.” They stabled their horses and stole into the bunk house. Fortunately it was empty, Rowan’s men being at the round-up. McCoy left them there and returned to the house. He met Mrs. Stovall in the corridor. She was on her way to the kitchen to begin the day’s work. “I’ve been out looking at one of the horses,” McCoy explained. “Colic, looks like.” The housekeeper made no comment. It passed through her mind that it was odd he should take his rifle out with him to look at a sick horse. CHAPTER XIV THE DAY AFTER