A moment the ranchman pondered over these opinions.
“That being the case, then, there’s no use of keeping to the trail,” he finally exclaimed.
“Why not?” demanded the others, surprised at the words as they remembered their boss’s vow.
“Because we’ve got to go over to Henry Hawks’ and get him to send some of his men to guard Sarah and what’s left of my cattle in the corral.”
“And if you’ll take my advice, you’ll get old Hen to join us with a couple or so of his boys,” asserted Deadshot. “Rounding up these lifters ain’t going to be any child’s play—especially when they’re hiding in the swamps!”
“Righto,” rejoined Bowser. “The more of us, the better. Come on, every jump we take along this trail now is leading us farther from the Star and Moon. By striking for it now, we ought to reach Hen’s in time for dinner.”
Accordingly, the avengers abandoned for the time being the trail made by the cattle thieves, and, turning their ponies straight for the South, set out to obtain protection for the lone woman left on the Double Cross home ranch and reinforcements to their own numbers, that they might the more quickly run the miscreants to cover.
The tax upon their ponies incurred by galloping through the tall grass and sagebrush was greater than in following the cattle track and, in consequence, their speed was less. Notwithstanding that handicap, however, they made fairly good time, and the sun was directly overhead when they cantered into the yard of the Star and Moon home ranch.
At the sound of the rapid hoofbeats, Mrs. Hawks came to the door.
“Well, Sam Bowser, if I’m not glad to see you,” she exclaimed, cordially, as soon as she made out the identity of the riders. “Put your ponies in the corral and come right in. You’re just in time for dinner. I guess I’ve got enough, if I haven’t, I can mighty soon get it. I’m——”