While the train crew unloaded the portable chute, the rustlers drove the cattle nearer. Slim looked around at the riders grouped nearby. Impatiently Joe was fingering his six gun and behind him Al Bass sat calmly, his face tense and a little white. Three other horsemen were ready to sweep out and cut off the escape of the rustlers.
Watching the approach of the cattle and the riders, Slim was not surprised to recognize the squat, heavy form of Hack Cook, owner of the Diamond Dot.
“I’m taking Cook,” muttered Joe, who recognized the Diamond Dot owner just as Slim did. The cowboy detective nodded. He’d let Joe have the first chance, for after all it was a feud between the ranches of the valley. If Joe failed to get Cook, Slim knew that with Lightning under him he could overtake anything in the country.
The rustlers whirled around the cattle, keeping them in a compact mass as they neared the train. Suddenly there was a burst of gunfire. The riflemen hidden in the bushes had blazed away.
A horse and rider went down. In another blast of lead a second rustler threw up his hand and pitched from the saddle to lie inert upon the ground.
Guns leaped into the hands of the remaining rustlers and they opened a rapid fire on the riflemen. Joe spurred his horse, and the riders swept out from behind the rock. Slim was riding easily, cautiously, ready to take the trail of the first rustler who made a break for liberty.
“Get ’em all,” shouted Joe. “It’s the Diamond Dot outfit.”
The gunfire was savage, ripping the silence and hurling echoes against the boxcars. The astonished train crew scurried for shelter.
The rustlers knew they were up against tremendous odds, for the cattlemen far outnumbered them and were shooting from shelter.
Hack Cook whirled to meet the menace of the riders. He was using two guns, both of them spouting flame and smoke. A Double O rider who had leaped ahead of Slim slumped in his saddle and his fright-crazed horse pitched him to the ground.