I backed to the door, and the last I saw of the rustler he was standing there in a scowling amaze.  I had fooled him all right.  If only I had the luck to have Snecker come along soon.  Mounting, I trotted the horse leisurely up the street.  Business and everything else was at a standstill in Linrock these days.  The doors of the stores were barricaded.  Down side streets, however, I saw a few people, a buckboard, and stray cattle.

When I reached the edge of town I turned aside a little and took a look at the ruins of Steele’s adobe house.  The walls and debris had all been flattened, scattered about, and if anything of, value had escaped destruction it had disappeared.  Steele, however, had left very little that would have been of further use to him.  Turning again, I continued on my way up to the ranch.  It seemed that, though I was eager rather than backward, my mind seized avidly upon suggestion or attraction, as if to escape the burden of grim pondering.  When about half-way across the flat, and perhaps just out of gun-shot sound of Sampson’s house, I heard the rapid clatter of hoofs on the hard road.  I wheeled, expecting to see Morton and his man, and was ready to be chagrined at their coming openly instead of by the back way.  But this was only one man, and it was not Morton.  He seemed of big build, and he bestrode a fine bay horse.  There evidently was reason for hurry, too.  At about one hundred yards, when I recognized Snecker, complete astonishment possessed me.

Well it was I had ample time to get on my guard!  In wheeling my horse I booted him so hard that he reared.  As I had been warm I had my sombrero over the pommel of the saddle.  And when the head of my horse blocked any possible sight of movement of my hand, I pulled my gun and held it concealed under my sombrero.  This rustler had bothered me in my calculations.  And here he came galloping, alone.  Exultation would have been involuntary then but for the sudden shock, and then the cold settling of temper, the breathless suspense.  Snecker pulled his huge bay and pounded to halt abreast of me.  Luck favored me.  Had I ever had anything but luck in these dangerous deals?

Snecker seemed to fume; internally there was a volcano.  His wide sombrero and bushy beard hid all of his face except his eyes, which were deepset furnaces.  He, too, like his lieutenant, had been carried completely off balance by the strange message apparently from Sampson.  It was Sampson’s name that had fooled and decoyed these men.  “Hey!  You’re the feller who jest left word fer some one at the Hope So?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied, while with my left hand I patted the neck of my horse, holding him still.

“Sampson wants me bad, eh?”

“Reckon there’s only one man who wants you more.”

Steadily, I met his piercing gaze.  This was a rustler not to be long victim to any ruse.  I waited in cold surety.

“You thet cowboy, Russ?” he asked.