Part 27 (1/2)

What, then, had happened to him?

Sanderson dismounted and went to his knees beside the man. At first he could see no sign of anything that might have caused death--for Carter was undoubtedly dead--and already stiffening! Then he saw a red patch staining the man's s.h.i.+rt, and he examined it. Carter had been shot.

Sanderson stood up and looked around. There was no one in sight. He mounted Streak and began to ride toward the camp, for he felt that Carter's death had resulted from an accident. One explanation was that a stray bullet had killed Carter--in the excitement of a stampede the men were apt to shoot wildly at refractory steers.

But the theory of accident did not abide. Halfway between Carter and the camp Sanderson came upon Bud. Bud was lying in a huddled heap. He had been shot from behind. Later, continuing his ride to camp, Sanderson came upon the other men.

He found the Kid and the cook near the chuck wagon, Sogun and Andy were lying near the fire, whose last faint embers were sputtering feebly; Buck was some distance away, but he, too, was dead!

Sanderson went from one to the other of the men, to make a final examination. Bending over Sogun, he heard the latter groan, and in an instant Sanderson was racing to the river for water.

He bathed Sogun's wound--which was low on the left side, under the heart, and, after working over him for five or ten minutes, giving him whisky from a flask he found in the chuck wagon, and talking to the man in an effort to force him into consciousness, he was rewarded by seeing Sogun open his eyes.

Sogun looked perplexedly at Sanderson, whose face was close.

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 h.e.l.l, 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 s.p.a.ce 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 d.a.m.ned 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.”