This shock at their plot all but created a panic among the band. Only their fury to avenge their comrade, and the desperate determination of Bud Nixon to wreak vengeance on his foes, held them to their plan. At another time the White Injun would have played the skulking coward, but now his blood was up, and he was reckless of the end. To divert attention, part of the band under Flying Arrow was sent to attack the house. The savages set up a fearful yelling and shouting as they circled about it. The ruse was successful, so far as uncovering the corral was concerned. Colonel Morgan and Fred, concluding that the house was in danger, hurried to defend it while Nixon struck for the corral to capture the horses. The rifles were cracking and the savages yelling when a wild shout broke through the din, and close upon it came the thumping hoofs of the Bar B horses. Hearing that challenging shout, the savages about the house fled again for the willows, leaving Bud and his braves entangled among the stacks and stables. Daylight was just beginning to break. “There goes a red devil,” yelled Jim, spurring his horse after a dark form, scurrying for the willows. “There’s another,” shouted Dick, catching sight of Bud Nixon, just emerging from the stable door with the Colonel’s finest saddle horse. “Watch me drop him!” He blazed away at the White Injun as he spoke. Bud heard and recognized the voice. His blood boiled. If it was the last act of his life, he’d have revenge now. He whipped out his revolver and fired. Dick’s horse leaped sidewise. Bud blazed away again and Dick reeled and fell. Bud ran for his own horse, leaped on it, and dashed away to dive into the thicket of brush and trees, just in time to escape the charging cowboys. A rattle of revolver shots followed him. Fred, running back to protect the stock, saw the whole encounter. He hurried to help his stricken companion. Dick lay limp and unconscious, an ugly wound through his left shoulder. Fred turned heartsick as he tried to call his old friend back to life. Several others rode up and helped him carry Dick into the house. While some one was dressing his wound, he regained consciousness. He was seriously but not fatally hurt. Bill was left to help Aunt ‘Liza nurse him, and the rest dashed away to run down the daring thieves, who, scattered and leaderless, were hidden or fleeing in every direction--all but three,--they had tasted quickly the wrath of the ranchers. CHAPTER XXI THE END OF THE LONG TRAIL