“Deveny’s got Barbara Morgan?”
This was Colver. Something in his voice straightened Linton further, and he steadied himself in the saddle and looked fairly at the man.
“Deveny’s got her. An’ they got me—chasin’ ’em. I was headin’ back to the Rancho Seco, to get the T Down boys—all Harlan’s friends—to wipe Deveny out. If you guys are men——”
Sheer will could no longer support Linton’s failing muscles—and he again collapsed over the pommel.
For an instant only did Colver hesitate. Then he turned to a lean rider who bestrode a tall, rangy horse. He spoke sharply to the rider:
“Hit the breeze to the Rancho Seco, an’ get them T Down boys. Fan it, damn you!”
The rider was off with the word, leaping his horse down the trail with dizzying speed. Then Colver loosed the rope that held Linton to the saddle, and with the help of the other men lifted the man down and stretched him in a plot of grass beside the trail, where they worked over him until they saw, far out on the level toward the Rancho Seco, a number of horsemen coming, seemingly abreast, as though they were racing, each man trying his best to outstrip the others.