There was recognition in Sogun’s eyes—­the calm of reason was swimming in them.

He half smiled.  “So you wriggled out of it, boss, eh?  It was a clean-up, for sure.  I seen them get the other boys.  I emptied my gun, an’ was fillin’ her again when they got me.”

“Who?” demanded Sanderson sharply.

“Dale an’ his gang.  They was a bunch of them—­twenty, mebbe.  I heard them while I was layin’ here.  They thought they’d croaked me, an’ they wasn’t botherin’ with me.

“One of them waved a blanket—­or a tarp.  I couldn’t get what it was.  Anyway, they waved somethin’ an’ got the herd started.  I heard them talkin’ about seein’ Soapy go under, right at the start.  An’ you.  Dale said he saw you go down, an’ it wasn’t no use to look for you.  They sure played hell, boss.”

Sanderson did not answer.

“If you’d lift my head a little higher, boss, I’d feel easier, mebbe,” Sogun smiled feebly.  “An’ if it ain’t too much trouble I’d like a little more of that water—­I’m powerful thirsty.”

Sanderson went to the river, and when he returned Sogun was stretched out on his back, his face upturned with a faint smile upon it.

Sanderson knelt beside him, lifted his head and spoke to him.  But Sogun did not answer.

Sanderson rose and stood with bowed head for a long time, looking down at Sogun.  Then he mounted Streak and headed him into the moonlit space that lay between the camp and the Double A ranchhouse.

It was noon the next day when Sanderson returned with a dozen Double A men.  After they had labored for two hours the men mounted their horses and began the return trip, one of them driving the chuck wagon.

All of the men were bitter against Dale for what had happened, and several of them were for instant reprisal.

But Sanderson stared grimly at them.

“There ain’t any witnesses,” he said, “not a damned one!  My word don’t go in Okar.  Besides, it’s my game, an’ I’m goin’ to play her a lone hand—­as far as Dale is concerned.”

“You goin’ to round up what’s left of the cattle?” asked a puncher.

Sanderson answered shortly:  “Not any.  There wasn’t enough left to make a fuss about, an’ Dale can have them.”

CHAPTER XXI

A MAN BORROWS MONEY

The incident of Devil’s Hole had changed the character of the fighting between Sanderson and Dale.  Dale and his fellow-conspirators had deserted that law upon which, until the incident of Devil’s Hole, they had depended.  They had resorted to savagery, to murder; they had committed themselves to a course that left Sanderson no choice except to imitate them.

And Sanderson was willing.  More, he was anxious.  He had respected the law; and still respected it.  But he had never respected the law represented by his three enemies.  He was determined to avenge the murder of his men, but in his own time and in his own way.