outlaws. It amused him to wonder whether they would kill him at once or feed him first, in case he sauntered into the room and announced himself a guest. Probably he had got in their hair so much that they would rub him out before he could even speak.
He knew that it would be wise to lie low till they were asleep and then slip away from the ranch. Very likely he would be fortunate to escape with a whole skin, but the thought of such a termination of the adventure was not pleasing to him. He had made a gesture before his friends that could justify itself only by success. Unless he took Mullins back with him, he would feel a sense of humiliation. There might still be a slim chance of doing this.
He knew the habits of outdoor men. Each one of these outlaws would come out before turning in for sleep to have a look around and make sure everything seemed safe. Mullins might appear by himself. If there was a poker game there was more likelihood of men drifting alone from the hot room into the cool night.
To take advantage of such an opportunity, Hal had to be nearer the house. He crept forward from the ravine and took a position back of the stable. There was a manure heap beside him, luckily an old one. Though he did not find this pleasant, it might turn out an advantage if he had to crouch down to avoid detection.
His vigil proved a long one. There was a poker game, and hours slipped away before the door opened and Mullins stood in the spot of light thrown out by the lamp behind him. He came into the starlit night, closing the door, and walked to the corral. Presently he lit a cigarette, flung away a match, and turned toward the house.
A figure lounged forward to meet him. 'Damn the game,' a voice drawled. 'I can't win a pot, Ed.'
Mullins was not a quick thinker. He supposed another player had wandered temporarily away from the game. Not until the gun was rammed into his belly did he recognize Stevens.
'Goddlemighty!' gasped Mullins. 'You — again!'
'Right. We're going back to the corral.' Hal tucked an arm under his. 'Easy does it. No noise.'
When they reached the corral, Hal told him to pick up his saddle and bridle. They walked through a gate into the pasture. The horses could be seen, dim shapes in the darkness, feeding at the far end of the five-acre enclosure.
Hal ran a hand over the man's body, found a weapon, and flung it into the brush.
'Look here, Mr. Stevens,' remonstrated Mullins. 'You can't do this. You're crazy. Some of the boys are sure to come out and see you before you get away. The game is about ready to break up. You'd better skedaddle before they know you're here.'
'Exactly my idea,' Hal chuckled. 'We'll both go soon as you have saddled.'
'If I was you I wouldn't wait—'
Hal cut his advice short. 'Get your rope and catch a fresh horse,' his captor ordered.
They cornered the grazing animals. Mullins picked a roan and threw. The loop slid down the shoulder of the horse. He coiled the rope and made a second throw. Caught by the neck, the cowpony gave up at once.
Still protesting, Mullins put on the bridle and cinched the saddle. They walked back to the gate. Light from the lamp in the cabin shone through the open door. A man in the doorway wanted to know profanely where Ed was.
'Tell him you've been looking after a cow ready to calve,' Hal said.
Mullins relayed the message. He shouted as an afterthought that he would be back pretty soon. The inquirer went back into the house and closed the door.
'You're doing fine,' Hal congratulated his prisoner. 'Maybe I can get you out alive.'
He prodded the homesteader to the ravine and tied his feet under the belly of the horse. The loop of his own rope he put around the man's neck.
'An hour from now we'll both be out of here or permanent residents,' Hal told him coolly. 'It's up to you to play on my side just now.'
To reach the ledge road they had to pass within fifty yards of the house. Mullins hung back.
'If anybody opens the door—'
'Then the band will begin to play.' Hal felt the pulse of excitement beating in him that the presence of danger always set drumming. 'And since I am, like Mercutio, the very pink of courtesy, I'll let you lead the way.
Hal's rifle lay across the saddle in front of him. In spite of his blithe manner, the rustler knew he must obey that order to go. The roan moved forward, and before it had taken a dozen steps light streamed out from the opened cabin door.
Frawley's big frame stood in the entrance. He gave a shout of warning. 'What's going on here?'
'We've got to run for it,' Hal cried, and lashed the rump of the roan with his quirt.
The horses raced straight for the house.
'It's Stevens,' Frawley roared, and disappeared from the doorway.
Hal swung his horse against the roan. 'Cut to the right,' he ordered. Mullins did as he was directed. He was as eager to get out of range as his captor. Looking back over his shoulder, the heart died in him. Men were pouring out of the house like seeds squirted from an orange. The crash of revolvers filled the night. A rifle's sharp whine whipped across the park.
The buckskin was hit. Hal could feel the horse begin to go down an instant before its collapse. He threw himself out of the saddle, caught at Mullins's belt, and swung himself behind the man.
'Keep going,' he snapped.
A man ran forward to cut them off from the road. Hal realized later that he could not have been in the house at the time Frawley discovered them. He was a big bull-necked fellow with buck teeth. Without stopping, he fired and missed. Plunging forward, his hand caught the bridle rein. Hal had dropped the rifle when vaulting to the back of the roan, but his revolver was out. Flung off-balance by the impetus of the horse's motion, the rustler lost the fraction of a second that might have saved him. Before he could steady himself, his finger pressed the trigger and sent a bullet flying skyward. The slug from Hal's .38 plowed into his brain. A slack hand fell from the bridle and the big body of the outlaw sank to the ground.
The horse almost went down over the body, but Mullins steadied its head and lifted it to its feet again. He urged the roan into a slow heavy gallop. The fugitives were now out of revolver range. The rifle still pumped at them, but the light was not good enough to make out objects clearly at a distance. They had reached the road, and the weighted cowpony was laboring with difficulty up the hill.
Hal slipped from the back of the roan and ran beside it on the inside of the ledge trail. Apparently a second rifle had joined the first, and both of them were raking the rocky hillside. Only the darkness saved the escaping men from being picked off by the marksmen in the valley.
'They'll get us yet,' Mullins said fretfully.
'Not unless someone makes a lucky shot,' Hal amended.
'Soon as they can saddle, they'll take after us. How can we get away on one horse? If you're smart you'll let me go and ride like the heel flies are after you.'
'I like yore company,' Hal drawled. 'With you here I won't be afraid of the dark. Come to think of it, we have half a world of darkness in which to hide. I reckon we'll make out.'
'You'll push yore fool luck too far some time,' Mullins complained angrily.
'It has stood up fine so far,' Hal mentioned cheerfully.
He had lost a good horse and saddle, but he felt the elation that comes after escape from danger pressing close on one.
HAL knew that as soon as the outlaws could catch and saddle they would come pounding up the ledge road after him. This did not disturb him greatly, for in this rough country scarred with gullies their chance of finding him at night would be slight. The danger would come later, when after daybreak he drew close to the M K. Probably they would be waiting in the brush for him there.
At the summit of the shale ridge bounding the mountain pocket, he left the road and cut into the brush- covered mesa. Hal walked beside the horse, a hand on the stirrup leather. It was likely that they would get lost temporarily in this tiptilted No Man's Land, but eventually they could get down to the valley by bearing south.
A water-gutted arroyo slashed through the mesa. Hal pulled up the horse to listen. On the gentle night
