He stood up and shook his shoulders, and his growing hatred of the world fell from him like a cloak. From now on he would fight like a man, fight to clear his name and confine his hatred to the man who had framed him. Before dawn the following day, they crossed the Pecos a little above Pilgrim's Crossing and started on their long ride across the Staked Plains. On the third day, they turned northeast and headed toward Wichita Falls and then, little by little, they swung about until they were traveling almost due north. They traveled slowly, for it was necessary to keep their horses fresh in case it became necessary to run for it. It was ten days after they crossed the Pecos that they struck the rolling hills and dense thickets that marked the country to the south of the Nations, hangout of hunted men. One morning they looked down from the top of a heavily wooded hill into the smooth cuplike valley through which flowed the Little Deadman's Creek. At the farther end, doll-like buildings marked the site of the Double R Ranch. "There she is," Slivers cried. "I'm bettin' yuh can pick out that gal of yourn settin' on the porch," Allen grinned. Slivers did not reply, but continued to stare out across the valley to the ranch buildings. Allen's words were true, for he saw, even if it were in his imagination, Dot Reed sitting on the front porch, just as he had last seen her on that day he had had to flee from the mob which was intent on lynching him. CHAPTER XIX DOT REED The two went over their plans, arranging camp. Slivers was to remain there while Allen went on to the ranch to ascertain if the feeling against Slivers was still vindictive. Jim Allen knew that the fame of his grays had traveled all over the West and that if he took both with him, it would make the chances of his being recognized that much greater, so he hobbled Honeyboy and saddled Princess. The stallion uttered shrill neighs of protest at being left behind, and Princess balked at leaving her constant companion. Allen circled to the east, for he did not wish to leave a direct trail from Slivers' camp to the ranch. After an hour's ride, he struck the road that ran south to Wichita Falls, where he turned to the north. It was close to sundown when he arrived at the small town of Malboro. This was the typical cow town of the region. It consisted of a few stores, a combination hotel and bar, a post office, and three or four saloons.