At his first word Winch was on his feet, and in a second he had pushed past Duncan, where he stood bareheaded in the rain.
"Eight to ten thousand of 'em," the trail-rider was saying, "drove 'em through that Texas feller's beat."
Dee Winch went into the hall and took down his belt with its double holster, his hat and coat.
"How far have they come in?" Duncan inquired.
"Fifteen or twenty miles by now."
"Did you look for Hartwell?" Winch asked. He was adjusting his belt, ready in those few seconds to take the road.
"I rode over to look for him when he didn't meet me this morning, but I couldn't find hide nor hair of him anywheres. Then I run onto the trail of that herd, and follered it till I overtook 'em. I think they've got twenty-five or thirty men in the outfit, and they're as sassy as hell."
"They came expectin' a fight, and they knew right where to hit the line," Duncan said. He turned to Winch, his handsome face clouded and stern. "Do you think that stranger was in on it, Dee?"
"I think most anything of him right now," Winch returned.
"It looks to me like he was in on it, and came
