"Anyone can see," went on Lonergan, "that they must have been ambushed by Indians. Maybe old Gimlet, who took a message in to town for Captain Blythe, had a hand in framing them for murder. Gimlet might have had an old grudge he wanted to settle with Texas Rangers. He's been around here for a good many years, you know."
"I admit," the masked man said, "it would be pretty hard to prove who killed those men, but cattle-stealing is a different matter. Furthermore, the law wants you men for other things."
"As for us," Lonergan argued, "the law'd have to find us first. As for the cattle-stealing, when we sell cattle the brands are right. We haven't sold a head that hasn't had the Cavendish brand."
Penny felt the world fall still further apart when the man she had begun to trust said, "What if I join up with you?"
Lombard and Sawtell looked admiringly at Lonergan and more than ever appreciated his glib tongue.
"In that case, you'd split the proceeds like the rest of us."
"But what about the stolen cattle?"
Lonergan shook his head.
"Never can be traced here," he said. "We bring them down the mountain trail from the top of Thunder Mountain; we shove them in with older cows and run a new brand. We got a dozen brands recorded to work with. We keep the cattle here until the scar has healed to look old; meanwhile we take cattle from the last batch up the trail and sell them. We don't have no trouble at all."