Chuck spurred his cayuse into a full gallop, rocketing down out of the Cajon foothills. The trail straightened out and a lone rider, coming at a furious pace, came into sight.

Chuck swung his cayuse off the trail, slid from the saddle, and found shelter behind a rock. The oncoming rider had been too busy looking behind him to see Chuck.

It was Hack Cook, owner of the Diamond Dot. Then Slim galloped into view and Chuck snuggled his cheek down against the butt of his rifle and voted himself a large-sized share of the chase.

Much as he knew the rustler deserved to be shot down without mercy, Chuck couldn’t quite bring himself to that. Lining his sights on the oncoming rider, he pressed the trigger. There was a tiny spurt of smoke from the rifle and Hack Cook catapulted from the saddle, drilled neatly through the right shoulder.

Chapter Twenty-Three
The Confession

Slim rode easily, keeping the fleeing owner of the Diamond Dot within sight. They pushed deeper into the Cajon foothills and Slim knew that Cook’s horse would soon commence to slow down under the pace, which was gruelling for the average range horse.

In desperation Cook dismounted and unlimbered his rifle but Slim, sensing the move before the rustler had found cover, dropped out of his saddle and fired rapidly at the Diamond Dot man. Cook was beaten at his own game and he leaped back into the saddle to continue the race against certain capture.

If he could only hold out until nightfall there was just a chance that he could escape, but Slim had no intention of allowing the rustler to do that. He was closing the gap steadily when the trail opened into a long, narrow defile in the mountains.

Cook spurred his tiring horse madly, while Slim gave Lightning her head. It was a good place to end the chase. He slipped his rifle out of the scabbard and lined up the sights. Before he could raise the weapon to his shoulder he saw Cook topple from his saddle to lie motionless along the trail.

Slim pulled Lightning up sharply. Perhaps it was a trick of the rustler’s, a ruse to bring him within sure range.