“Listen,” Robin addressed his crew. “You’ve heard his yarn. It’s true. I’ve been up against this for a year. Keep your mouths shut tight about all this until you’re called in court as witnesses. Shinin’ Mark won’t be as easy to handle as this fellow. Now, two of you ride, one on each side of him, to camp.” They moved off in a cavalcade. Sam Connors fell in beside Robin, looking curiously at him. “If he hadn’t weakened would you ’a’ hung him?” he asked at last. “I don’t know,” Robin answered truthfully. “Maybe. But he did weaken.” “You had me guessin’,” Connors observed. “I couldn’t hardly ’a’ stood for a lynchin’. Did you figure he’d squeal when you made that hangin’ play?” “Yes,” Robin admitted. “That’s why I made it. I’ve got ’em both dead to rights now. Next thing is to round up Shinin’ Mark Steele. Then this range’ll be clean once more.” CHAPTER XXV--SNIPPED THREADS On a little hillock that gave a clear view all around Robin pulled up his horse. He rode alone. Now of all times he must be wary. Thatcher had failed. If Steele knew Thatcher had not only failed but had confessed his sins to save his neck, he would certainly be in the mood to take a desperate chance. He _might_ be riding the hills on the same errand as Thatcher. So Robin looked well from all the high ground and rode fast in the low places. There was no shame in being cautious. A second bullet might not simply graze him. Over westward he could see a little dark cluster moving rapidly across the rolling land. That was Sam Connors and his prisoner with two J7 men for bodyguard. Connors could make the evening train by riding hard. Nightfall would see the Texan safe in the county jail. Nightfall, Robin hoped, would also see Mark Steele at the end of his tether. The blank warrant in his pocket Robin had already filled in. He meant to leave no loopholes because he meant to take Mark Steele wherever he found him. If Mark anticipated his purpose and resisted then the outcome was on the knees of the gods. Shining Mark might be at the Bar M Bar; he might be at the Block S camp, he might be in town. He was bold and crafty. He might indeed be anywhere, but in those three places in the order named Robin proposed to look for him. He had a grim satisfaction to stiffen his purpose. There was no loophole left for Shining Mark now. Robin had been patient, he had endured much, and he did not love his enemies. Steele was not at the Bar M Bar. Neither was Mayne nor his daughter. A ranch hand told Robin they had gone to town. He bore on up to the Block S. The round-up tents stood white on the green border of an irrigated meadow but the Sutherland riders knew nothing of Mark. Jack Boyd did inform Robin that old Adam and May had departed in the buggy three or four days earlier. Robin knew that the bay trotters were likely to have but one destination. “Me for Big Sandy,” he reflected--and borrowed a fresh horse out of the Block S _remuda_.