Hardly a breath of air was stirring, but all knew the eccentric way in which sound is sometimes carried by it.  Suddenly the reports of rifle-firing were heard, faint but distinct, and lasting several minutes.  Then other and different noises reached her, still faint but clear.

Her power of hearing, like her vision, was exceptionally strong.  It was that which enabled her to tell that the last sounds were not made by a single animal, but by several going at a high rate of speed.  These, with the reports of rifles, made her certain that the rustlers had attacked Sterry.

Meanwhile the young man found matters exceedingly lively.

The reception of the “warning” through the hands of Fred Whitney was proof that his enemies knew he was frequently at his house.  Their messenger had gone thither to deliver it.  Young Whitney had slain one of their number, and though the law-breakers themselves had suffered the most, they felt bitter resentment toward the family.

If Sterry remained with them they would have trouble.  He was satisfied that Larch Cadmus recognized him, as he sat in front of the rancher’s house, and would not forget to tell it to his comrades, who would speedily make the place a visit.  He believed they were likely to do it before the rise of the morrow’s sun.

If the Whitneys were attacked, his presence would add to the defensive strength, but such an attack would not be made if he was not there.  Desperate and defiant as the rustlers had been, it would be an injustice to represent them as capable of such wantonness.

He felt, therefore, that it was his duty to leave the ranch without delay, thus removing an element of grave danger.  It would have been hardly wise to make this explanation to them, though he believed Fred suspected it.

Turning his back, therefore, upon the dearest spot in all the West to him, he set his mare Queenie on an easy, swift gallop, heading southward toward the ranges where the cattle of the Whitneys were grazing.

Sterry, in one sense, was without a home as long as he remained in Wyoming or Montana, while in another sense he was the owner of numberless dwelling-places or “headquarters.”  He may be likened to a commercial traveller in a vast and sparsely-settled region, where he is well known and welcomed by the inhabitants.

The ranchmen who knew him—­and there were few who did not—­were his friends, for he was working in their interests.  At whichever cabin he drew rein he was certain of a hospitable reception.

With no clearly defined idea of where he would spend the remaining hours of the night, he turned the nose of Queenie toward the ranges, among the mountain spurs.

Grizzly Weber and Budd Hankinson would stay near the cattle for an indefinite time, and he was debating whether to join them or to ride on to the ranch of Dick Hawkridge, a number of miles to the northeast, when his meditations were broken in upon in the most startling manner.