"It ain't none comfortable here, with that wind whinin' that vicious," complained a cowboy. "An' no fire. Hamlin said ten o'clock, didn't he? It's past eleven."
"It's off, I reckon," said Shorty. "Let's fan it to Hamlin's shack an' say somethin' to him."
Instantly the outfit was on the move. With Shorty leading they swept out of the gully to the level and rode northward rapidly.
When they came in sight of the Hamlin cabin there was no light within, and the men sat for a time on their horses, waiting and listening. Then, when it seemed certain there was no one stirring, Shorty glanced at the horse corral.
Instantly he whispered to the other men:
"Somethin's wrong, boys. Hamlin's horse is gone, an' Ruth's pony!"
He dismounted and burst into the cabin, looking into the two bedrooms. He came out again, scratching his head in puzzlement.
"I don't seem to sabe this here thing, boys. I know Ruth Hamlin ain't in the habit of wanderin' off alone at this time of the night. An' Hamlin was tellin' me that he sure was goin' with Singleton. It's a heap mysterious, an' I've got a hunch things ain't just what they ought to be!"
He turned toward the plain that stretched toward Willets. Far out—a mere dot in his vision—he detected movement. He straightened, his face paled.
"Somebody's out there, headin' for town. I'm takin' a look—the boss would want me to, an' I ain't overlookin' anything that'll do him any good!"