They were destined to learn that the daredevil cattle thief was a lone man!
“That being the case, aren’t we wasting time trying for a shot at them?” demanded the foreman. “They probably made their getaway along with that first bunch of cattle.”
“Maybe you’re right, Sandy,” assented the ranchman. “But I’ve got a sort of hunch that spook will show himself once more.”
And the owner of the Double Cross was right—though the method chosen by the spectral raider to disclose his whereabouts was different from that which Bowser expected!
Lingering at the houses only long enough to make a hurried report to the ranchman’s wife and then to get the rifles and torches, Deadshot was soon back with his companions.
“Here, everybody take a torch and hurry to your posts,” ordered Bowser, as his man rode up. “Sandy, you go to the West side; Pinky to the North; Deadshot to the East, and I’ll take the South. Keep, your eyes peeled—and remember the thousand dollars!”
Even as he spoke, the ranchman touched a match to his torch and when the flame flared up, it threw the four men into bold relief.
“How long shall we patrol?” asked Deadshot.
“Till I wave my torch in the air. Then ride to the house. We’ll get some grub and pick up the trail as soon as it gets daylight.”
Before any of the quartet could take up the task of patrolling the cut fence, however, the cattle thief made himself known.