"Must 'a' been right about here Thornburg was shot," explained Dud.

"Charley Mason was one o' the soldiers an' he told me all about it.

Captain Jack was in charge of this bunch of Utes. Seems he had signal fires arranged with those at the agency an' they began their attacks at the same time. Charley claimed they didn't know there was Injuns within twenty miles when the bullets began to sing. Says he ran five miles before he took a breath."

Bob looked around apprehensively. History might repeat itself. At this very moment the Utes might be lying in the draw ready to fire on them. He was filled with a sudden urgent desire to get through with their job and turn the heads of their ponies toward Bear Cat.

"Makes a fellow feel kinda squeamish," Dud said. "Let's move, Bob."

They carried the word to the settlers on the creek and turned in the direction of Bear Cat. They reached town late and found the place bustling with excitement. Families of settlers were arriving in wagons and on horseback from all directions. There were rumors that the Indians were marching on the town. A company of militia had been ordered to the scene by the Governor of the State and was expected to arrive on the second day from this.

Camp-fires were burning in the park plaza and round them were grouped men, women, and children in from the ranches. On all the roads leading to town sentries were stationed. Others walked a patrol along the riverbank and along the skirts of the foothills.

Three or four cowpunchers had been celebrating the declaration of war. In the community was a general feeling that the Utes must be put down once for all. In spite of the alarm many were glad that the unrest had come to an issue at last.

Bob and Dud tied their horses to a hitching-rack and climbed the fence into the park. Blister came out of the shadows to meet them.

"W-whad I tell you, Texas man?" he asked of Bob. "Show-down at last, like I said."

Into the night lifted a startled yell. "Here come the Injuns!"

Taut nerves snapped. Wails of terror rose here and there. A woman fainted. The sound of a revolver shot rang out.

One of the roisterers, who had been loud in his threats of what he meant to do to the Indians, lost his braggadocio instantly. He leaped for the saddle of the nearest horse and dug his spurs home. In his fuddled condition he made a mistake. He had chosen, as a mount upon which to escape, the fence that encircled the park.

"Gid ap! Gid ap!" he screamed.

"Yore bronc is some balky, ain't it, Jud?" Hollister asked. He had already discovered that the panic had been caused by a false cry of "Wolf" raised by one of the fence rider's companions.

"S-some one hitched it to a post," Blister suggested.

"Ride him, puncher," urged Bob. "Stick to yore saddle if he does buck."

Jud came off the fence sheepishly. "I was aimin' to go get help," he explained.

"Where was you going for it--to Denver?" asked Blister.

The night wore itself out. With the coming of day the spirits of the less hardy revived. The ranchers on the plaza breakfasted in groups, after which their children were bundled off to school. Scouts rode out to learn the whereabouts of the Utes and others to establish contact with the approaching militia.

Harshaw organized a company of rangers made up mostly of cowpunchers from the river ranches. During the day more of these drifted in. By dusk he had a group of forty hard-riding young fellows who could shoot straight and were acquainted with the country over which they would have to operate. Blister was second in command. All of the Slash Lazy D riders had enlisted except one who had recently broken a leg.

Scouts brought in word that the Utes had swung round Bear Cat and were camped about thirty miles up the river. Harshaw moved out to meet them.

He suspected the Indians of planning to ambush the militia before the soldiers could join forces with the rangers.

Bob had joined the rangers with no enthusiasm. He had enlisted because of pressure both within and without. He would have been ashamed not to offer himself. Moreover, everybody seemed to assume he would go. But he would much rather have stayed at Bear Cat with the home guards. From what he had picked up, he was far from sure that the Utes were to blame this time. The Houck killing, for instance. And that was not the only outrage they had endured. It struck him more like a rising of the whites. They had provoked the young bucks a good deal, and a sheriff's posse had arrested some of them for being off the reservation hunting. Wise diplomacy might at least have deferred the conflict.

During the bustle of preparing to leave, Bob's spirits were normal even though his nerves were a little fluttery. As they rode out of town he caught sight for a moment of a slim, dark girl in a blue gingham at the door of the hotel. She waved a hand toward the group of horsemen. It was Dud who answered the good-bye. He had already, Bob guessed, said a private farewell of his own to June. At any rate, his friend had met Hollister coming out of the hotel a few minutes before. The cowpuncher's eyes were shining and a blue skirt was vanishing down the passage. There had been a queer ache in Bob Dillon's heart. He did not blame either of them. Of course June would prefer Dud to him. Any girl in her senses would. He had all the charm of gay and gallant youth walking in the sunshine.

None the less it hurt and depressed him that there should be a private understanding between his friend and June. A poignant jealousy stabbed him. There was nothing in his character to attract a girl like June of swift and pouncing passion. He was too tame, too fearful. Dud had a spice of the devil in him. It flamed out unexpectedly. Yet he was reliable too.

This clean, brown man, fair-haired and steady-eyed, riding with such incomparable ease, would do to tie to, in the phrase of the country.

Small wonder a girl's heart turned to him.

CHAPTER XXX

A RECRUIT JOINS THE RANGERS

Harshaw did not, during the first forty-eight hours after leaving Bear Cat, make contact with either the Indians or the militia. He moved warily, throwing out scouts as his party advanced. At night he posted sentries carefully to guard against a surprise attack. It was not the habit of the tribes to assault in the darkness, but he was taking no chances. It would be easy to fall into an ambush, but he had no intention of letting the rangers become the victims of carelessness.

At the mouth of Wolf Creek a recruit joined the company. He rode up after camp had been made for the night.

"Jake Houck," Bob whispered to Dud.

"Who's boss of this outfit?" the big man demanded of Blister after he had swung from the saddle.

"Harshaw. You'll find him over there with the cavvy."

Houck straddled across to the remuda.

"Lookin' for men to fight the Utes?" he asked brusquely of the owner of the Slash Lazy D brand.

"Yes, sir."

"If you mean business an' ain't bully-pussin' I'll take a hand," the Brown's Park man said, and both voice and manner were offensive.

The captain of the rangers met him eye to eye. He did not like this fellow. His reputation was bad. In the old days he had been a rustler, rumor said. Since the affair of the Tolliver girl he had been very sulky and morose. This had culminated in the killing of the Ute. What the facts were about this Harshaw did not know. The man might be enlisting to satisfy a grudge or to make himself safe against counter-attack by helping to drive the Indians back to the reservation. The point that stood out was that Houck was a first-class fighting man. That was enough.

"We mean business, Houck. Glad to have you join us. But get this straight. I'll not have you startin' trouble in camp. If you've got a private quarrel against any of the boys it will have to wait."

"I ain't aimin' to start anything," growled Houck. "Not till this job's finished."

"Good enough. Hear or see anything of the Utes as you came?"

"No."

"Which way you come?"

Houck told him. Presently the two men walked back toward the chuck-wagon.

"Meet Mr. Houck, boys, any of you that ain't already met him," said Harshaw by way of introduction. "He's going to trail along with us for a while."

The situation was awkward. Several of those present had met Houck only as the victim of their rude justice the night that June Tolliver had swum the river to escape him. Fortunately the cook at that moment bawled out that supper was ready.

Afterward Blister had a word with Bob and Dud while he was arranging sentry duty with them.

"Wish that b-bird hadn't come. He's here because he wants to drive the Utes outa the country before they get him. The way I heard it he had no business to kill that b-buck. Throwed down on him an' killed him onexpected. I didn't c-come to pull Jake Houck's chestnuts outa the fire for him. Not none. He ain't lookin' for to round up the Injuns and herd 'em back to the reservation. He's allowin' to kill as many as he can."