“We are Texans,” said Ben Tabor quietly.
“Ha!”
“Yes, and Revolver Riders, who acknowledge Captain Dash as our chief.”
“I know nothing of him or his cutthroat band.”
“You are mistaken; you escaped from us when we were on the trail for Santa Fe; but this time you shall not escape, Kent King.”
“Yes, I am Kent King, and you have me fast, but I do not despair,” was the reckless reply.
“You have no hope, Kenton Kingsland, for I am on your trail.”
“Great God! Kate Colvin! Is it you or your ghost?”
The man shrank from Panther Kate as though from a spirit of the other world, while a bitter laugh broke from his lips as she replied: